


Love is Blind

by Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst, Blind Character, Blind!Dean, Christmas, Coffee Shop, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Disability, Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fandom, Fanfic, Fanfiction, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Sex, Human Castiel, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, OC, SPN - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Wedding, blind, deanxcastiel, disabled, gay fanfic, gay relationship, gay ship, m/m - Freeform, m/m relationship, otp, past- Dean/oc, past- sam/ruby, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 79,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2655221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction/pseuds/Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak worked regular shifts at the small, cosy coffee shop off Main Street. It was a quiet, rather uneventful neighbourhood in which nothing much ever happened at all.</p>
<p>And so it seemed odd that it was here- in this sleepy little town- that something truly remarkable took place.</p>
<p>And that something remarkable began with Dean Winchester...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Choc

Castiel Novak worked regular shifts at the small, cosy coffee shop off Main Street. It was a quiet, rather uneventful neighbourhood in which nothing much ever happened at all.

Castiel enjoyed chatting with customers and watching civilian life play out in the park outside the shop, though he always felt that he was missing something. He often had strange twists in his gut that alerted him to the fact that, to an outsiders eye, his life was nothing more than a dreary set of unremarkable events, devoid of anything particularly special.  
He should be doing more.

However, _more_ was a concept that no one in his hometown seemed to truly grasp. Everyone was humble and content and no one ever seemed to crave _more_ in their life.  
Which made Castiel the odd one out.

And so it seemed odd that it was here- in this sleepy little town- that something truly remarkable took place.

And that something remarkable began with Dean Winchester.

* * *

Castiel had had a rather bleak start to his day that day.

He'd fallen down the stairs of his apartment trying to put his socks on that morning.  
He'd dropped his phone, adding a new crack to the already traumatised screen.  
His brother, Balthazar, had cancelled dinner.  
His cat, Hannah, had pooped on the rug.  
He'd spilt coffee on his favourite shirt.

Yes, very bleak indeed...  
  
"Castiel?" His co-worker, a young girl called Ruby, snaps her fingers in his face.

"Hmm?" He sighs.

"One large coffee, black, to go." She relays the order with a slight smirk. "Looks like you need one yourself."  
Cas pokes his tongue out at her and scoops a cup up off the bench, shoving it below the machine and staring, mesmerised, as the dark liquid swirls around.

"Number 48!" Castiel calls, reading the number on the side of the cup.  
A stocky man with a wild beard shuffles up to the counter, taking the cup with mumbled thank-you. Castiel nods at him, retaking his seat on the chair behind the counter.

The store is rather quiet today. A couple and their two small children occupy one corner, an elderly man and woman the other. Two men sit at separate tables, both glued to their phones and clad in crisp suits and ties.

"I think I'll take my break now, if that's okay." Ruby pokes Castiel in the shoulder. He nods and she smiles, taking her handbag and ambling out of the store.

Castiel sighs again, tiredly, and takes up a cloth and spray bottle. He makes his way to the small outside area, the breeze ruffling his untidy hair. As if on autopilot, he sprays and wipes the unoccupied benches, zoning out completely.

Castiel mentally lists all the errands he'll have to run that day; grocery shopping, head to the bank to pay the rent, chemist to get cough drops for his neighbour Becky, stock up on coffee beans for the shop...

His train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when he's tapped lightly in the shoulder.

Castiel whips around, shocked for a moment, to find a young man wearing shades smiling back at him.

The man is tall and bowlegged, and a pair of shades hide his eyes. His hair, dirty blond, nearing on brown, is spiked at the top and sort of messy. Freckles speckle his face and trail down beneath the collar of his shirt, which is black with a red plaid button-up on top that's seen better days; his jeans are torn at the knees and worn down, and he wears faded brown boots.

Castiel's first thought is, _Father above, that boy is_ **_attractive_**.

His second thought is, _Castiel Novak, that is a customer and you will not mentally violate the poor guy_.

"May I help you?" He raises an eyebrow, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Erm, yeah." The man says. "This is 'Heavenly Brew', right?"

"Yeah..." Castiel says, slowly.

"Could you show me to the door? I'm freaking terrible at that sorta thing."

Castiel spends an embarrassingly long time gaping at the him before he realises, cheeks flaring, that the man before him is _blind_.

"Oh, y-yes. Sorry, yes..." He splutters, unsure as to what to do. Instinctively, he holds out his hand to the man, guiding him to the door and opening it generously wide.

"Thanks." The man says, smiling. "I'm Dean, by the way. And you are?"

"Castiel." Castiel says, still blushing. He is secretly thankful that this Dean fellow is blind, because he'd have no idea how to hide his reddening cheeks otherwise. "Castiel Novak."

"Pleasure to hold your hand, Castiel Novak." Dean grins.

"Huh- yes. Same to- you. Uhm..." Castiel curses his thick tongue. "Would you like to order something?" He leads Dean to a table by the window.

"Well, I'm not here just to smell the coffee, Cas." Dean chuckles and Castiel turns prune-red. _Cas_...

"I'm a- I..." He clears his throat. "I work here, so I can, y'know... I'll take your order."

 

"I figured you worked here, you wouldn't be cleanin' tables otherwise." Dean smiles, warmly.

"How'd you know I was?"

"I have superpowers." Dean laughs softly and Castiel finds himself smiling, also. "I'll have whatever. Surprise me!" Dean finishes, waving his hand in the general direction of the bar, impressively accurately aimed.

Cas stares at him for a moment. "You sure?"

"Yeah, hit me with your best shot." Dean sits down, his tone underlined with a challenge; but not threatening, more _flirtatious_.

Shaking like a leaf for no apparent reason, Castiel shuffles into the kitchen behind the counter and grabs a mug from the shelf. Hesitantly, he scans the menu, waiting for something to leap out and grab him.

_What to serve Dean... What to serve Dean..._

Castiel swallows, his mind already floating back to the stranger seated behind him. Freckles adoring perfectly sculpted features, a coquettish smile...  
He shakes his head. Dean probably isn't even into men. But why would he flirt with Cas, then?  
Unless Castiel was simply looking for something where there was nothing.

He sets his jaw; there's one way to find out. _Flirt back_.

Reaching for a tin on the shelf above the machine, Castiel enters the required input and hits the button, waiting as milk and froth pours into the mug.  
The machine beeps, signalling Castiel to the end of the 'Hot Chocolate' cycle. 

Smirking, he adds the finishing touch to the brew, shaking dozens of tiny pink-and-white sprinkles over the top of the concoction.

Turning with a smug smile plastered on his face, he makes his way over to Dean.

"There you go- careful, it's hot." Castiel warns, placing the steaming beverage in Dean's hands.

"Thanks." Dean nods, twisting his head towards Cas' voice. "What is it?"

Cas laughs mischievously. "I guess you'll have to find out."

Dean pulls a surprised face, raising his eyebrows above the rim of his glasses. "Well then..." Cautiously, he raises the mug to his lips, the steam fogging his lenses. Castiel waits with baited breath, anticipating Dean's surprised reaction.

And he gets it.

"Wha-" Dean sputters, hot chocolate dribbling down his chin. "God, that's _sweet_!"

"Indeed."

"Is that- is that _chocolate_?"

"Very perceptive, how acute your tastebuds are."

"You made me a _hot chocolate_?"

Castiel nods, then remembers Dean is blind. "Yes."

Dean scoffs in an disbelieving manner, then takes another sip. "Well, it's... It's _amazing_."

"It's- what, sorry?" Castiel frowns, beginning to doubt his hearing- perhaps Dean isn't the only one that has an impaired sense.

"It's delicious, really. The best hot chocolate I've ever tasted." Dean stares at his mug, or, at least, would be staring at it if he could see. "I feel like a child."

Cas chuckles, noting the little froth moustache on Dean's upper lip. "Well, sir, you look like one. You've got a little something there." He points to his own lip.

"Where?"

"Oh- um..." Castiel picks up a napkin, holding it bashfully to Dean's lip, waiting for his hand to come and relieve him from the impending awkwardness. "There..."

Dean takes the napkin and sloppily rubs the froth away, placing the used napkin on the table.

"Seriously, though, you make a killer hot choc."

Castiel smiles, shaking his head. "I do my best."

Dean seems thoughtful for a moment, sipping contently on his drink.  
"Y'know..." He begins, then he trails off. Castiel pauses, and then, unsure as to what to do, busies himself tidying up the table beside Dean. Recognising that Dean might not notice he is gone otherwise, Cas tries to stay close.

Dean puts his mug down after a while, a bemused look on his face. It's almost as if he is finding himself in a situation unusual for him, trying to pick up the courage to say something.

Castiel shoves a chair into table 7, the metallic legs screeching painfully. Dean winces and his ear twitches, but he doesn't say anything.

There's a weight in Castiel's chest, heavy and unorthodox. He wants to talk to Dean, feels gravitated towards him, but can't find the words. He also wants to just duck out of there, slip back behind the counter and put as much distance between him and this enchanting stranger as possible. 

"Are you done with the cup?" Castiel asks, making sure to say _cup_  not _that_ , for Dean's sake.

Dean nods and Cas clears it away, binning the napkin. He almost doesn't come back, but he's a man of manners, and decides it'd be rude not to at least bid Dean a formal farewell.

Upon his return, Dean opens his mouth, audibly inhaling air as if to say something. However, he doesn't get the chance.

"Dean?" His name is called through the store, slicing the awkward tension in two.

Dean almost looks disappointed as he raises his hand. "Here, Sam."

Castiel takes this as his cue to inch away, slipping back behind the bar to his own minor relief.

The owner of the voice, a tall, fit man with the most incredible mop of hair, saunters over to Dean. "Hey." He greets, touching Dean's arm.

"Hey." Dean replies.

"You alright?"

"Oh, yeah..." Dean shrugs. "Hard to order when you're alone, but..." His voice fades and his head twists in Cas' general direction, the whisper of a smile on his lips.

Sam frowns but says nothing about Dean's attention shift. "Well, I found a place 4 blocks down."

"Great." Dean hums.

"Yeah, so... Wanna go? Or are you busy?"  
Dean shakes his head and Castiel feels his heart sink, not that he was listening to the stranger's conversation or anything.  
Not that he wanted Dean to stay. No.

"Okay," Sam holds out his arm, placing Dean's stick in his free hand. "This way, then. Watch the table."

Castiel watches with a disappointed gaze as the two giant men exit the store, the Sam fellow's hair blowing wildly in the wind, Dean swaying by his arm.

He really needs to stop with this whole spur-of-the-moment crush thing, it's unhealthy. He'll never see Dean again, so stop fantasising.  
But, oh how beautiful the freckled stranger was. With his shaded eyes and beaming smile.  
For all he knew, that Sam man was his partner. How could a catch like Dean be available, anyway? Of course he's taken. He's just personable, not flirting.

Castiel mentally slaps himself. _Get it together_.

A man approaches him and orders a chai latte, marking the end of flirtatious adventures and the continuation of his brain-dead work.  
Cas counts down the minutes 'til closing time.


	2. Coffee Shop: Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's alarm screams beside him, provoking a near-heartattack.

Castiel's alarm screams beside him, provoking a near-heartattack.

Groaning, he rolls over, smacking the device square on the head. The racket is silenced and Castiel, weary with sleep, drags himself out of bed.  
He dresses himself numbly in his work attire; a simple white shirt, black pants, shoes and a ghastly blue vest. The vest itself bears the coffee shop's infamous logo; a pair of arched angel wings spread across the back, and a miniaturised version on the front-left breast pocket with red letters reading ' _Heavenly Brew_ '.

Castiel crinkles his nose distastefully as he stares in his bathroom mirror, his unruly hair flung out in all directions. He snatches up a comb and sets about trying to domesticate the wild mop of black strands, to no avail. Grabbing his tin of gel, he pets his hair down as best he can, then traipses out of the bathroom.

Trotting down the stairs, Castiel tugs his keys off a spare hook on the coat hanger and grabs a muffin off the kitchen bench. Chucking his favourite coat- a large, beige trench- over his shoulders, he exits the apartment.

 

 

The sun's beams glare down upon Cas as he shuffles along the cracked sidewalk, having judged that the weather was nice enough to walk to the shop. Cars zip passed him, occasionally blaring their horns, but he pays them no mind.

"Morning, Castiel!" Jody Mills calls from the porch of her house down on Whittleworth Drive. Castiel raises his hand in greeting as he passes her, smiling warmly.

He arrives at the café exactly 3 minutes early and trudges exhaustedly into the rear kitchen.

"You look worse for wear this morning, Steve." His Saturday morning partner and boss, Nora, trots passed him.

Cas rolls his eyes. The day he met Nora, his first day, he'd introduced himself as Castiel Novak. However, his name proved too complicated for the young blonde to remember as she soon fell into the habit of calling him 'Caspian'. _"Like the Narnia character,"_  she'd say.  
Eventually, Castiel had grown fed up with being referred to as a pitiful fairytale prince, and called her out on her mistake. Nora had laughed, although a slight blush was eminent on her cheeks.

She had then settled on calling him Steve.  
_"Much easier."_

And so, as Castiel pins his badge on his chest, the words; "Hello, my name is: **Steve** " pop out at him.

"Yeah..." Castiel finally answers her. "I'm not a morning person."

Nora smiles sympathetically. "Well, have a coffee. That's sure to give you a little pick-me-up." She waves a coffee sachet in front of his nose.  
Castiel strains a smile and takes the sachet, popping it in the machine and brewing himself a coffee.

"How was your morning, then?" He asks, making small talk while he waits for opening time.

"Oh, y'know..." Nora tips her head. "The usual. Baby's kept me up most of the night, missed another date because I couldn't find a babysitter."

Castiel tries to look pitying, but knows he probably failed. "That's too bad."

Nora nods her head, blonde curls bouncing. "At this rate, I'll never find a man."

Castiel awkwardly places a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you will... One day," he says.

"Hmm..." Nora turns, smiling. "What about you, Romeo? You found anyone special, yet?"

At this point, Castiel is perhaps the most single being on the planet. And about as close to finding a partner as he is to finding a unicorn. "Uhm, no."

Nora frowns comically, thrusting out her lower lip. "Aw, too bad."

Cas shrugs. "I don't really mind."

"Naw, Steve." Nora's face turns genuine. "No one likes to be alone."

Unsure as to how to respond, Castiel turns and heads to the tables, setting out the numbers and napkins, ignoring the niggling feeling of truth in his co-worker's words.

"Could you change the sign, Steve?" Nora calls from the kitchen where she's busying herself baking fresh cupcakes.

"Sure!" Cas calls back, scooping up the chalk box and stepping into the morning sunshine. He crouches by the little chalkboard sign and gently brushes the previous words off the board, the letters crumbling to dust in his hands, lost in the breeze. Frowning in thought, Castiel stares at the empty space, unsure as to what to write.

Something witty? Kind? Funny? Inviting?  
He's never been good at making signs. And he sure as hell can't draw.

"What to write..." He mumble's out loud, tapping his chin.

"Serving people, brewing things, the coffee business." A distantly familiar voice mutters behind him.

Castiel twirls around, still in his crouching position, to find a familiar freckled face and large shades. "Dean!" He exclaims, surprised.

"It's just a suggestion..." Dean taps his stick on the board.

"You're back." Castiel stares at him, perplexed.

"I haven't read many coffee shop signs, but I reckon that's pretty good. Nice ring to it..."

"How'd you even know I was..." Castiel stares at the sign.

"Superpowers, Cas, remember?"

Castiel does remember, how could he forget the conversation he'd had with the stranger yesterday? Somehow, despite only having met Dean Winchester once before, Castiel finds himself feeling comfortable with him, as if they are long-time friends.

"Why are you here?" Cas tilts his head.

"I like your hot chocolates." Dean grins.

"I- you what?"

"Your hot chocolate yesterday. Me likey." Dean rolls the childish word off his tongue with a goofy smile.

Finally, Castiel registers what's actually happening. "Oh, right. Um... Thanks?"

"Welcome."

"Would you... I'll make you another." Castiel takes Dean's arm the way 'Sam' did yesterday and leads him inside. "Same table?"

Dean nods, shrugging. Castiel helps him to the little table for two by the window, and pulls out a chair. "I just have to finish the sign, thanks for the suggestion."

"No worries, Cas." Dean gives him a thumbs up and Cas, blushing, heads back to the sign.

As neatly as possible, Cas traces the words onto the rough surface, bright colours bringing the black to life.  
  
**Serving People**  
**Brewing Things**  
**The Coffee Business**  
  
**~Heavenly Brew~**  
  
He smiles to himself. _Perfect_.

 

"Did you write it?" Dean twists in his direction as he approaches.

"Yeah."

"Awesome." Dean nods to himself. "'Write a coffee shop sign', cross that off my list."

"List?" Cas jokes.

"Oh, yeah." Dean tips his head in Castiel's direction. "Bucket list, or whatever it's called..."

"Glad to have helped you make you dream come true."

"A regular Disney, you are." Dean concludes. "Hey, by the way, I realised when Sam and I got home that I hadn't paid you yesterday."

Cas frowns. "For what?"

"For the hot chocolate." Dean clarifies. "How much do you want?"

Cas snorts. "It's on the house."

"No, you don't have to do that. How much?"

"Dean," Cas says playfully stern. "It's a hot chocolate, alright? It doesn't matter. Besides, you just saved my neck. I'm the world's worst coffee shop sign-maker."

Dean beams. "Well, alright. Thanks Cas."

"No, thank-you." Castiel laughs. "Now, I'll go make you another one."

"Don't forget the sprinkles!" Dean calls as Castiel's footsteps fade.

 

5 minutes later, a chocolaty brew is placed before Dean, Castiel grinning dumbly to himself.

"There you go, on the house."

Dean stares, slightly to the left of the drink. "No, Cas. This one I pay for."

"No." Castiel flatly refuses.

"You don't even know me, you can't just give me free drinks."

He has a point. Castiel bites his lip, awkwardly.

Dean sighs, though not in an exasperated manner. "At least let me pay for yours."

"Mine?" Castiel frowns.

"Yeah, when you have time, make yourself one. The exact same, you _have_ to try them!" Dean smiles and slides a ten dollar note across the able.

"This is too much."

"Nah," Dean's nose crinkles. "Just take it, you stubborn thing."

Castiel slips the money in his pocket, not quite sure what's happening.

"Are there any other customers?" Dean sips his drink.

"No, it's early. There won't be others for at least an hour, or so..."

"Good." Dean taps the seat in front of him with his boot. "Make yourself one of these and sit down."

Finding no reason to decline his offer, Castiel prepares a hot chocolate for himself and takes a seat in front of Dean.

"Y'know," Dean slurps, grimacing at the noise. "Oh, sorry."

Castiel chuckles. "It's fine."

"Right, uhm... What was I saying." Dean pauses. "Oh, yeah. Y'know, I never asked; is it alright for me to call you 'Cas'?"

Castiel recalls that being the only name Dean has assigned him yesterday. It sure beat 'Caspian'. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Okay, good." Dean breathes, relieved.

Castiel takes a tentative sip of his drink, relishing in the sweet, creamy taste. "Mmm..."

"See? Best hot chocolates ever." Dean reaches out, tapping air for a moment before finding Cas' arm. He pets it lightly before retracting his hand.

"Thanks." Castiel ducks his head.

"So," Dean inhales deeply from his nose, pursing his lips. "I was gonna ask you."

"Hmm?" Cas quirks an eyebrow. _Where is this going?_

"Uhm..." Dean hums, a crease of concentration crinkling his brow.  
As he opens his mouth, the little bell at the door of the café tinkles and a woman trots in, flagged by two friends.

"Oh," Cas feels his heart sink, having forgotten his job for a moment. "I have to go, I'll be back. Early risers..."  
Dean looks disappointed, but nods.

Castiel ducks in behind the counter and takes the ladies orders, directing them to a table near the rear, away from Dean who is seated before the front window.

The women joke and laugh loudly, gossiping about anything and everything. They carry an array of combatting aromas which cause Castiel to sneeze several times.

After delivering their teas, coffees, cakes and muffins, Cas makes his way back to Dean.

"I'm back." He announces cheerily.

"Awesome." Dean replies, tipping his empty mug in his hands. He lowers his voice, pulling a face. "What is that smell?"

"The ladies in the far corner." 

"Smells like the perfume section of the mall."

"And you'd know precisely what that smells like." Castiel retorts sarcastically, with a grin. Then the thought hits him, perhaps Dean does... "I suppose your girlfriend drags you in there often." He adds.

"Nah," Dean crinkles his nose. "Don't have one of those."

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Well..."

"I just mean, it's hard not to smell that place, right? You simply walk through and once your reach the other side, it's like you're full-on bathed in the stuff!" Dean continues, pulling the most ridiculous face.

Castiel laughs heartily, gaining a pause from the group of women- who stare at the pair before whispering in hushed voices and giggling.

"Anyway," Cas says, once he's calmed down. "What were you going to say before?"

Dean is quiet for a moment. If he weren't blind, he'd be staring right at Castiel.

"Nothing." He says, softly.

Nora eventually bustles over, demanding that Cas get back to work. Castiel guides Dean to the door, bidding him farewell. He finishes the day feeling light and happy, smiling contently, for once.

* * *

Dean regularly visits _Heavenly Brew_ , appearing at the door each day, asking if Castiel is in.  
Eventually, Castiel's exasperated workmates relay Cas' schedule to Dean, hoping he'll stop pestering them.

 

Castiel receives a call late one Thursday- a month after his and Dean's first meeting- from Nora.

"Your friend came again today, asked for you."

"Friend?" Castiel questions, frowning and confused.

"That Dean fellow."

"Oh," Castiel chuckles. "Did he?"

"Yes, I gave him your work schedule. He recorded it on his phone. Recorded my voice, isn't that a bit... odd?"

"He's blind, Nora." Castiel reminds her. "The only way he can record anything is audibly. What's he supposed to do? Stab brail into his notebook?"

Nora pauses. "True, I suppose..."  
"I'm sorry he keeps coming, at least now he'll only come when I'm there."

"It's like he thinks you _live_ there."

"I practically do." Castiel ignores how right he is. That coffee shop is his only source of human interaction, the only reason he leaves his apartment, besides shopping- even then, he gets a lot of it delivered.

"Well, are you coming tomorrow?" Nora sighs.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Thank god, we need you. There seems to have been a coffee boom with that fair coming to town."

"Fair?" Castiel doesn't recall hearing of a fair.

"Yeah, the town's annual fair, everyone who's setting it up seems to be requiring regular doses of caffeine- great for business, not so great when your only help are a bunch of students. One almost broke the machine yesterday."

Nora sounds so tired, Castiel feels sorry for her. "I'm sorry about that. Listen, if you ever need any help, give me a call."

"Thanks, Steve." She puffs into the phone, most likely laughing softly. Castiel, offering help- ain't that a laugh? "Look, I have to go, the baby's woken up. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Castiel hangs up the phone in a rather cheery mood.

Bored, but too awake to sleep, Castiel switches the telly on. Surfing through the channels, he finds Dr Sexy M.D. and snuggles into his couch, readying himself for some hours of being a potato.

 

The next day Castiel practically skips to the shop.

"Morning, Castiel!" Jody Mills calls.

"Morning, Jody!" Castiel shouts back. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It's raining, Castiel."

_Oh, right_...

 

Arriving drenched and slightly late, Cas removes his coat and sniffs slightly from the unnoticeable cold.

"Look at you!" Nora cries from the kitchen doorway. "You're soaking! Don't you have an umbrella?"

"Didn't know it was raining." Cas shrugs. Nora shoots him a funny look. 

"The slushie machine is broken." Nora nods her head in the direction of the machine. "Jammed, I think."

"Right." Castiel grabs his little tool box from a shelf in the kitchen and sets to work on the machine.

He's halfway through uncapping on side of the slushie-maker, when a voice causes him to jump. The cap springs off and slushie pours onto the floor.  
"Urgh..." Cas groans at the mess, turning to find Dean, leaning of the counter. "How'd you get in here?"

"With great difficulty." Dean tilts his head. "Did you spill something?"

"Only an entire canister of slushie..." Cas grabs a mop and attempts to clean the mess as best he can. "I heard you've been pestering my colleagues."

Dean giggles. "Yeah, well... I wanted to see you. My superpowers only go so far, y'know? Didn't know your schedule."

"You do now." 

"Yeah." Dean slips his phone from his pocket, waving it. "Got it here."

"Nora thinks it's creepy you recorded her voice."

"Well, I'm afraid it's the only way. Thank god for Siri, I would be hopeless without her." Dean sighs, smirking. "Anyway, is it too early to order?"

"No." Castiel glances at the clock. "One hot chocolate supreme, coming up. Shall I show you to your seat?"

"Nah, I got it."

"You sure?" Castiel tilts his head, squinting slightly- apparently he does it a lot.

"Yeah." Dean turns, tapping with his stick, arm outstretched. He bumps into a table and chair twice, but makes it to his table by the window. The rain patters on the sidewalk outside, the dark clouds dimming the light inside. The electronic candles around the shop create a warm, peaceful atmosphere, flickering slightly. A fireplace by the corner lays unlit, Castiel notes that as his next job.

Gingerly, Cas places Dean's hot chocolate down before him. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." Dean slips Cas a ten dollar note.

"I told you, this is too much." 

"A substantial tip for a worthy hot choc." Dean says, stubbornly, still holding out the money. Cas, rolling his eyes, takes it and drops it in the tip jar. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?" Castiel raises his head from the fire he just successfully lit, relishing in the warmth.

"Take a seat, will you?"

"Dean, you do recall that this is my workplace, I can't casually sit down with-"

"It'll be quick." Dean's tone is so innocent and hopeful that Castiel can't refuse him. Dragging the chair out, Cas takes a seat. Dean breathes in deep. "You have Sundays off."

"Erm, yes." Cas isn't sure if Dean is asking or stating his day off.

"Okay, 'cause I know this great place called The Roadhouse. It's not far and a friend of mine runs it. I was wondering if- and you can say no, that's cool- but maybe you'd..." Dean babbles so fast it takes Castiel a second to register his words. 

"Wait, are you asking me out?"

"Uhm, yes. Yes I am. I am asking you, Castiel Novak, on a date. Yes."

"You want to go on a date?"

"Yes."

"With _me?!_ "

"Well, I'm not asking the napkin."

Castiel flushes red, noting the similar tomato-like colour filling Dean's cheeks. "Oh..."

"You can say no." Dean adds, hurriedly. "In fact, I was stupid for asking. You don't wanna go, that's fine. I'm sorry... Forget I asked. I just-"

"It's not that I don't want to go." Cas says, dazedly.

"You- really?"

"Yeah, it's just... What about Sam?"

"What about him?"

Cas crumples his brow, biting the inside of his cheek. "Isn't he your... Partner?"  
Dean pauses for a moment, jaw hung slack, before laughing so loud Nora pokes her head around the corner. "Cas! He's- _no_!" Dean pauses for breath, gasping. "He's my _brother_!"

"Oh..." Castiel's eyes widen, realising what this means. "Oh!"

Dean raises a finger beneath his specs, wiping a tear from his eye. "So, is that a yes, then?"

Castiel breaks into a beaming smile. "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me at http://scribblesnsquiggles.tumblr.com


	3. Unchained Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel fumbles with the silky fabric of his favourite tie...

Castiel fumbles with the silky fabric of his favourite tie. The brilliant blue colour reflects in his eyes, illuminating them, popping them.   
It's been a while since he's worn a tie. In fact, if he recalls correctly, the last time he wore one was for his job interview at the coffee shop... 3 years ago.

Castiel groans at his reflection, resigning from his task of fixing his askew tie. His hair is another lost battle, refusing to lay flat on his scalp.

_At least I shaved_... He thinks to himself, trying his best to find an upside to his dishevelled appearance. He pouts, wanting so desperately to make a good impression.  _If Dean doesn't ditch me the moment he sees me, it's a miracle_.

Castiel then remembers that Dean is, in fact, blind- and therefore most likely indifferent to dress sense.

A quick peek at his watch tells him Dean will be there soon. Forcing deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth, Castiel adds the final coat of shine to his shoes. _Breath, Castiel. Breathe_...

  
He can't help it if he's nervous for his first date since preschool- if that even counts.

 

Castiel hears Dean before he sees him. A large, sleek car roars down the street, coming to a smooth stop outside his apartment. It seems like just the kind of car Dean would own.

Castiel doesn't know an awful to about cars, but knows enough to recognise a classic when he sees one. It it's in mint condition, too, from what he can see snooping out his bedroom window. The vehicle is black with a silver finish, polished and shining. The engine sounds incredible, vibrating the ground beneath it. Castiel's insides tremble with the tiny shivers and it feels  _good_. He can understand Dean's choice in cars, even if he has no clue what model it is.

He has to act unsurprised when Sam steps out of the vehicle, slipping around to the passengers side and helping Dean out. At least Cas can breathe a little easier, knowing that Sam is Dean's brother.

Castiel shakes his head. It's not like he owns Dean. They've only just met. They haven't even gone on a date, yet!

_This is why I'm is single_. Cas mentally slaps himself. This is also why he wound up taking the family cat when he moved. He's possessive.

Said cat now rubs up against his legs, leaving a trail of white-and-black hairs over his pants, purring contently.

"Hannah!" Castiel cries, shoving the feline with his foot. "Bad cat! Don't you see? I'm going on a date. I need to be _clean_."

Hannah simply mews indignantly and stalks off to go nick treats from the cupboard.

Castiel, distractedly glaring at the cat, almost doesn't hear the shrill call of the doorbell. Snapping to attention, he stumbles down the stairs.

Puffing out one last nervous breath, Castiel twists the nob and the door swings open.

"Hello, Dean." He says, unsure what else to say. "And, um, Sam."

"Hi, you must be Castiel." Sam extends his free hand. "I'm Sam Winchester, we haven't officially met."

"Castiel Novak." Castiel nods curtly. "It's a pleasure to meet you Sam."

Sam smiles. "Likewise."

"Can I speak now?" Dean huffs, impatiently.

Sam rolls his eyes, directing an exasperated look at Cas. "He's been a pain in the ass all afternoon."

"Have not!" Dean pouts.

"Have so."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Castiel's eyes flicker back and forth between the siblings as they bicker. "Um..."

"Aw, would you just get lost, Sammy? You're ruining he mood."

"That's me, official mood-killer." Sam winks at Cas. "I should be thanking you, Cas. I've been waiting to get rid of him all day. Good luck, bud."

"Get lost, Sam." Dean spits. Cas is sure that he's glaring beneath the glasses.

Sam pulls an offended face before turning to Castiel, slipping car keys into his hand. "Just to clarify, I'm not coming with you two- don't worry. It's just, someone had to chauffeur Grumpy, here." He nods at Dean. "These are the keys to the Impala. I'm afraid, considering Dean's... condition, you'll have to drive."

"Oh, right. Thanks." Castiel awkwardly nods.

"Don't mention it. You two love birds enjoy." He taps Dean's butt, turning and skipping down the sidewalk to town.

"Oh, god... He's such an ass." Dean sighs heavily. "Sorry about that, Cas. He's been waiting for this for, well, freaking forever."

"S'okay." Cas holds out his hand for Dean to take, which he does, and leads him down the steps to the car. "I'm afraid I don't quite know where we're going..."

"Oh, yeah." Dean blushes. "There's a GPS in the glove box. Stupid thing's a pain, but, y'know... I can't exactly point streets out these days."

"It's no bother, your sight's not your fault." Dean grimaces, but Castiel pretends not to notice. "Do you have the address?"

Dean washes the pained expression away, replacing it with a smile. "Sure do..."

 

25 minutes later, Castiel is at the wheel of the 'Impala', charging down a dusty back road.

"Is the road dusty?" Dean fiddles with the radio.

"Erm, yes." Castiel blinks, noting the cloud of brown particles billowing out behind them.

"Then we're headed in the right direction. Damn, gonna have to wash her again."

"Pardon?"

Dean laughs softly. "The car- Baby. I'm going have to wash her again."

"Why?"

"Can't have my Baby going around all brown and dusty now, can I?"

"Why do you call the vehicle 'Baby'?" Castiel squints, tipping his head to the side.

"'Cause that's what she is. She's my baby."

"You didn't give birth to the car, Dean."

Dean barks out laughter this time, wheezing slightly. "Oh, my god, Cas. I'm not being literal." He sniffs slightly. "I just love her. She's been a part of my family even before Sam, and she's important to me. The Impala was dad's, then she became mine. I'm just... I guess I'm freaking proud of her, man. She's a nice car."

"I can see that." Castiel nods, his voice soft. A nice vehicle, indeed. "You're sentimental, fair enough."

"I'll never forget what she looks like." Dean continues. "I've forgotten people. Faces, they get fuzzy. Indistinguishable. But not Baby, oh no. I can picture every nook and cranny of her."

Castiel lets Dean's words sink in. "So, you weren't born blind, then?"

Dean shakes his head. "Nah, I lost my sight a few years ago."

"What happened?" Castiel blurted the question before he could stop himself, immediately wishing he could take the words back.  
Dean falls quiet.

"I- sorry..." Castiel trips on his words. "You don't have to. Never mind. New subject. Any subject."

"How close are we?"

Castiel feels a pit form in his stomach. He's upset Dean. He wants to get out. He wants to leave. "About 5 minutes."

"Awesome."

"Do you want to leave?" Castiel bites his lip.

"What? No! No, Cas. I just wanted to know if I had time to play something..." Dean clicks a button on the radio and music blares from the speakers. "Ha! Ha-ha!" He laughs triumphantly. "I fixed the stupid thing!"

Cas applauds, clapping his hands on the steering wheel. "Bravo!"

Words fill the car, recognisable- to some extent.

_"Whoa, my love_  
_My darling_  
_I've hungered for your touch_  
_A long, lonely time..."  
_

Dean hums along, occasionally letting a quiet words slip out. Castiel trains his ears on the music, trying to decipher the song.  
Suddenly, Dean stops, coughing awkwardly. "Urgh, sappy song. I'll change it, sorry..."

"No." Cas puts a hand to Dean's to stop him switching the station. "You were enjoying it."

"No, I wasn't." Dean retorts offensively.

"You're the blind one, not me. I could _see_ you were enjoying it."

Dean hesitates.

Cas tries to filter his smile into his voice, so Dean can hear his sincerity. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you like 'sappy songs'."

Dean pulls his hand back, nodding his head slowly to the music. "Unchained Melody."

"Pardon?" Castiel frowns.

"The song," Dean clarifies, singing a little more. "It's called Unchained Melody. You know the movie Ghost?"

"Unchained Melody..." Cas parrots. "Yes, I think I've heard it."

  
"It's a classic." Dean turns it up a little, turning to Cas with a cheeky grin. " _Whoa, my love.... My darling... I've hungered, hungered for your touch... A long, lonely time..._ "  
Cas snorts at Dean's 'sappy' face, his voice straining to meet the notes.

  
And yet, somehow, he does. Castiel silently thanks the lord that Dean isn't deaf because his _voice_. He matches pitch with the singers, a little squeaky here or there, but perfect all the same, and Cas fights not to close his eyes as Dean's voice washes over him.

"You're a good singer, Dean." He says, again- without thinking.

"Ha, nah." Dean waves his hand absently. "You should join in!"

"I don't know it very well."

"Well, we'll have to remedy that. So you've seen the movie?" 

"No, I don't think so."

"We'll remedy it that way, then. Movies are the best."

"You're blind...?"

Dean snorts. "Yeah?"

Cas shakes his head and says nothing. Dean wants to- put loosely- watch a movie with him. Dean wants to spend _time_ with him. More time.  
That shouldn't make him feel the way it does. It shouldn't be the only thing he can think about. But it is.

The remaining few minutes are filled with Dean's singing and the gentle crackling of the radio.

 

The Roadhouse is fairly quiet as the pair enter, Dean clinging almost a little too tightly to Castiel's arm.

"Nice tie." A thin girl with blonde hair and a pretty face slides past them.

"Um, thank-you." Castiel calls back.

"You're wearing a tie?" Dean snorts.

"Yes."

"That doesn't make you feel awkward in a place like this?"

"No."

"You have dress pants on?" Dean smirks.

"Yes."

"Oh boy, you totally polished your shoes, too, didn't you?"

"...Yes."

Dean laughs, loud and light, shaking his head slowly. "Oh, my god, that's adorable. Who were you trying to impress?"

Castiel pauses, unaccustomed to being called 'adorable'.

Dean freezes, unaccustomed to _calling_ people 'adorable'.

Their crushingly awkward silence is interrupted by an elder woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a tough-as-nails look about her. Her face softens, however, upon seeing Dean.

"Dean! Hiya, kid. Long time, no see."

"You're telling me." Dean points to the shades and they both chuckle.

Cas looks around, not quite sure what he should do.

"Oh, right..." Dean takes ahold of Cas' other hand. "Ellen, this is Castiel Novak. Cas, this is Ellen Harvelle, she owns the joint."

"Hello, Mrs. Harvelle."

Ellen smiles in greeting. "It's Ms, actually- but you call me Ellen, alright?"

"Ellen." Castiel corrects himself.

"Much better." She turns to Dean. "Now, are you two wanting a table?"

"Yes, please." Dean replies.

" _Please_? Golly, what has this boy done to you?" She winks at Castiel. "Good job, kid."

Dean and Castiel are lead to a table at the back of the room, farthest from the bar. "There you go, Jo will be 'round with the menus shortly."

Castiel nods a thank-you, sitting opposite Dean.

"Certainly different from the café, eh?"

Castiel agrees. "Yes, but I like it. It suits you more than work."

"You saying I look out-of-place in your high-class caffeinated beverage complex?" Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, no, no! Certainly not, I just-" Castiel fumbles.

"Chill, Cas. I'm just messin' with ya." Dean reassures him, placing a hand on his own.

"Uh-hm..." A high-pitched voice hums beside them. 

Castiel turns to find the blonde girl. "Oh..."

"Menus." She says, placing two pamphlets down. "Mum says to shout when you want drinks. I'm Jo, by the way." She says to Cas. "Ellen's daughter."

"Pleasure."

"I bet." She nods, an undertone of sass in her voice, and sweeps away.

"Yep, that's Jo alright. Don't take it personally, she's like that with everyone. Tried to shoot me the first time we met."

"She _what_?!"

"Long story."

"She reminds me a little of you, actually."

Dean scoffs. "I'm offended."

"You shouldn't be. Are you going to order?"

"Well, I would if I could read the thing."

"Oh, sorry..." Cas rolls his eyes at himself. _Duh, Castiel_.

"Nah," Dean crinkles his nose. "I was just going to have what you were having."

"What if you don't like it?"

"Irrelevant." Cas rolls his eyes at the flirtatious grin Dean throws his way.

Jo flounces by a few minutes later and Cas relays their order. "Two burger specials with a side of wedges- extra hot sweet chilli."

"Extra hot?" Jo pulls a face. "Your funeral."

Cas stares at her back as she leaves. "Most certainly the female version of you..."

"Extra hot?" Dean asks, ignoring Castiel's remark. "Really?"

"I like things hot."

"Well, that explains your attraction to me." They both laugh.

"Honestly, Dean, could you be more narcissistic?"

Something dies in his smile a little. Something Castiel doesn't mention, but can't help noticing. A little fall in his happiness. "Yeah, nah." Dean glosses over the change, but Castiel still saw it. "Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all."

"Is this your first date?"

Castiel hesitates. "Yes."

"Really?" Dean's face contains a look of genuine surprise. "A handsome fella like you? Really?"

"You don't know if I'm attractive, Dean."

"I can damn well dream." Dean smirks.

"A dream come true, Dean. Take my word for it, he's attractive." Jo reappears out of nowhere beside Cas, winking down at him with a small smile.

"Knew it..." Dean replies smugly. "I have good taste, even while blind."

Castiel blushes heavily and accepts the plates of food from Jo, splitting the dishes between himself and Dean. "Thank-you, Jo."

"Welcome." She nods, turning on her heal and disappearing again.

"I am certain that girl can apparate."

"Can what?"

"Haven't you ever read Harry Potter?" Dean pulls a confused face.

"I guess not all of them..." Castiel concludes, adding it to the list of things he'll have Dean introduce him to.

Dean absently feels around for a wedge, dipping it on the fourth try into the extra hot sweet chilli sauce. Castiel follows the sliced potato from the small saucer up to Dean's mouth, anticipating the reaction.

Which, naturally, is a startled cry from Dean's side of the table, his face turning bright red. "Hot!" He yelps, dropping the wedge and fanning his mouth.

"Do you need water?"

Dean nods, panting like a dog.

"Ellen!" Castiel calls. "Can we have some ice water over here, please?"  
Ellen nods from her place behind the bar, trotting over with an icy jug. Dean snatches up a glass and pours the liquid into his mouth, adding 3 cubes of ice.

"Urgh..." He moans, eventually, setting his glass down.

Ellen sniggers and lightly taps Cas shoulder. Cas' own face sports a rather amused grin.  
"Don't like it?"

"It's freaking _hot_!"

"Sure puts you to shame, doesn't it?"

Dean giggles- in a manly manner, of course. "Whatever. You wanting a different drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Aw, c'mon Cas, what's your poison?"

"Poison?" Castiel pulls a shocked expression.

"Not literal poison." Dean sighs. "What's your kind of drink?"

"Water is fine."

"Water!" Dean exclaims. "We're not at book club, Cas, we're on a date. What about wine?"

"I've never really had any."

"Well, to be honest, it's not really my kind of thing, either. But I'm willing if you are?"

Cas contemplates Dean's offer. Supposing that one glass won't affect him too greatly, he accepts. "I shall poison myself with wine."

 

  
Three glasses later Castiel begins to feel a dull buzzing in the back of his head.

"More?" Dean holds the bottle to Cas, seemingly less affected by the alcohol.

"No, no, I'm okay."

"Probably just as well." Dean sets the bottle down. "So... This is your first date?"

"Well, unless you-" Cas is interrupted by a small hiccup. "Include preschool romances."

"Ooh, young love."

"Very."

"What a lucky guy, getting his hands on the great Castiel Novak first."

Castiel laughs. "Girl, actually."

"Oh?" Dean raises his eyebrows, voice elevating questionably.

"Hmm..." Castiel frowns, thoughtfully. His sexuality very rarely comes up in conversation, but has often been a debatable topic between he, himself and Hannah the Cat. 

"So... This," Dean gestures between the pair of them. "This is ok?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, good." Dean sighs, relieved.

"Dean, I wouldn't have lead you on this long if it weren't."

"Right, right." Dean nods. "Just gotta check, y'know." He perks up, pressing his lips into a smile once again.

"So what about you?" Cas asks, fixing his eyes on the rim of his wine glass.

"You mean which way do I usually swing?"

Cas makes a noise of affirmation.

"Both." Dean says, no hesitation. "Love is love."

"Love is blind."

Dean smirks. "Precisely. Love is blind. I am blind. Therefore I am Love."

"Wouldn't that mean people could say, 'I Dean you'."

Dean barks with laughter. "Well, Cas. If this date goes well, maybe you can say it?"

Cas snorts. "Maybe I will."

"I like your voice." Dean says, suddenly.

Castiel shoots him a strange look. "Thank...you?"

"No, I mean... That came out wrong. I meant, I like the way you sound, yeah? Like, I can't see you, I have no idea what you look like, so I can't complement you on your face. I can't say, 'nice hair!' or 'amazing eyes!'. But I can say nice voice. And basically I just failed trying to complement my date, and am now going to shut up."

Cas beams. "Thank-you, Dean. For the record, I like your voice, too. It's very... Voicey."

And with that, they are sent into another bout of tipsy laughter.

 

Castiel pulls the Impala up beside his apartment around 12 p.m.  
They had to wait a while for the alcohol to settle (Castiel will admit that the trip home was not strictly _legal_ ).

"Well..." He breathes, grateful that they made it all the way with no accident, considering the amount of booze he'd consumed.

"Well..." Dean echoes, fidgeting.

"Thank-you, Dean." Castiel decides to go for the usual pleasantries. "I enjoyed myself. I hope you found my company adequate, also."

Dean's teeth flash in the light of the streetlamp. "Sure did, Cas."

"I-uh..." Cas gives a little cough. "If you're, y'know- if you want, we could do this again sometime."

Dean's face lights up. "Yeah, yeah, that'd be awesome." 

"I look forward to it."

"Same."

Cas glances at his front steps where a figure, Sam, is sat waiting. "Sam's waiting. I better go."

"Wait!" Dean shoots his hands out, stilling Cas' where they rest on the seatbelt buckle. He shyly retracts them, wringing his fingers together. "Let me walk you to the door."

"You can't see, Dean."

"Walk me to the door and pretend I'm the one leading."

Cas smiles, sighing to himself, and climbs out of the car. Taking Dean's hand, they stroll arm and arm to Castiel's front door.

"Watch the step." Cas says, making sure Dean lifts his leg at the right time.

"Hey, guys." Sam stands up as they approach him. "How was it."

"Good." They reply in chorus, both blushing.

Sam shakes his head, smiling at them. "You two are weird."

"Shuddup, Sammy." Dean growls, gripping Cas a little tighter. "Don't you have better things to be doing?"  
Castiel didn't see it, but Dean accompanied his words with a less-than subtle nod in the Impala's direction. Taking the hint, Sam bid Cas farewell.

"See ya 'round, Castiel."

"Farewell, Sam."

Dean listens to Sam's movements all the way to the car, where he climbs in, pulling out a pamphlet and pretending to be busy. "Well, then..."

"I guess you'll have to find your way back to the car yourself."

"I guess I will, won't be too hard."

"If you trip, don't go blaming me." Cas raises his eyebrows pointedly at Dean.

"Whatever, Cassie." Dean drawls.

"I shall be bidding you a goodnight now, I think." Cas continues. "Thank-you, again, for this evening."

"It was an honour, Castiel Novak."

"A true privilege, indeed." Cas jokes. "Goodnight, Dean." He releases Dean's arm and unlocks the door, opening it to step inside, slightly confused as to why Dean doesn't reply.

Until, that is, he is firmly gripped by the shoulder and spun around.

"Dean, wha-" His words are lost, swallowed up by Dean's lips which are suddenly pressed against his own.  
Castiel freezes, stunned. Dean doesn't seem to mind however, as he slowly begins to relax into the kiss he initiated. At first his breathing is fast, erratic, his lips smashing into Castiel's, as though he'd only suddenly had the burst of courage to kiss him. Which, of course, he had.  
he begins to slow down, relaxing, melding his lips gently with the stunned Castiel's. Dean raises a shaky hand to delicately cup Cas' cheek, another coming up to run his fingers through his hair.

Cas releases an involuntary moan, causing Dean to smirk against his mouth. Dean's fingertips trace Castiel's face, fluttering over his closed eyelids, nose, mouth. Castiel accepts the intrusion of personal space. He presses into Dean even more, growing bolder by the second. Wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, raising himself up on tiptoes to reach Dean's colossal height.

Eventually, gasping for breath, lips flush, they break apart. 

"Wow..." Dean breathes, running his tongue over his lower tip.

"Yeah..." Castiel traces the movement hungrily. "Good shot."

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, to be honest, I thought I was going to miss."

"It might've been different if you'd wound up kissing my ear."

Dean shudders comically. "Ew..."

"Thank-you." Cas says, sincerely. If he could've picked any first kiss in history, it'd have been that one.

"It was an honour to be the first to taste those lips, Castiel. A true honour. Trust me." Dean creases the corner of his mouth into a smirk.  
"I best be going inside now." Cas mumbles, knowing that, otherwise, he'd stay out here with Dean forever. Hannah mews impatiently inside, having not been fed properly that evening. "Need to feed the cat."

"Best do that." Dean nods. "G'night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean turns, cautiously taking the steps one at a time. He hums lowly as he wanders to the car where Sam is now blowing the horn as impatiently as Hannah is meowing.  
Castiel makes out the tune from where he stands, entranced in the doorway.

  
Unchained Melody.


	4. I Dean You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I Dean you, too."

Castiel didn't mean any offence, but he could not wait for the sermon to end that Sunday morning.

The air was turning cooler. Leaves falling from the trees, delicately drifting in the wind, leaving behind bare, twisted branches like skeletal fingers stretched to the light of the blanketed sun. He shuffles down the path, pulling his coat tighter around his chin, burying his face into the warm material. He expects snow this year for Christmas, which is nice. Castiel likes snow.

 

The journey home is uneventful and relaxing. Castiel finds time to breathe in the frosty air, comforted by the still quiet of the town. He reflects on the events playing out in his life thus far, few though they are.

Dean, naturally, is the centre focus.

They have been dating a month now. A simple month. But it's the longest relationship Dean has ever been in, or so he says, and the first real one for Cas. It's new and exciting and beautiful. 

Castiel feels a warm buzz in his stomach, a constant sensation whenever he thinks about or is around Dean. He associates it with happiness.

They haven't gone further than the occasional, shy kiss. And Castiel still hasn't seen Dean without his shaded glasses balanced daintily on his freckled nose- but he doesn't mind. Dean will show his eyes when he feels comfortable. Probably the same time he feels comfortable to reveal the tale of his loss of sight, seeing as he still withdraws defensively at it's mention. Castiel understands, however, and doesn't push Dean. He'll tell him in his own time, and that's just fine. He knows Dean still loves him, and that's good enough for Castiel.

 

The apartment lights are on when he arrives, their soft glow blooming through the blotchy top windows. Castiel smiles softly.

This can only mean one thing.

"Hello, Dean." He calls, wiping his soaking shoes on the doormat before kicking them off.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean's muffled voice drifts down the staircase. Castiel slips his coat and scarf off, shaking the dewdrops from his hair before padding softly up the stairs. 

Dean sits nonchalantly on his bed, facing the far wall. In his arms is a package, wrapped in dull brown paper and tied with string. "How was church?"

"Adequate. I couldn't quite focus on the sermon this morning..."

"Shame."

"Indeed, it was Pastor Gideon, too."

"He's the one you like, right?"

Castiel nods, despite Dean being unable to see. "Yes. You know, you should come along with me some time. His daughter, Leah, is a great speaker. You'd like her."

"Maybe, Cas. But it just ain't my thing, y'know? I'm not the praying type."

"You could be." Castiel replies, pointedly. He sits himself down on the bed beside Dean, his weight dipping the mattress a little more.

Dean smirks, turning when Castiel runs his fingers through his hair. "Church folk aren't really that accepting of people like me, let alone like us."

"It's a small town, Dean. We're all friends- no one will judge."

"Still..." Dean sighs, leaning his head in to touch Cas forehead with his own. "Why don't we talk about something else?"

"Like what?" Castiel breathes.

"Like dinner."

"It's 11 o'clock, Dean."

Dean presses his lips gently to Cas' head. "Sure, but we can still plan, right?"

"What's the occasion?" Castiel raises an eyebrow.

"No occasion, I just wanna take you out somewhere. Anywhere."

Castiel smiles. "Well, technically I'm the one that takes us out."

"Shuddup." Dean punches him, playfully. "Stop killin' the mood."

"That's me," Castiel snorts. "Official Mood Killer."

"Oh, god... You're turning into Sam!" Dean whines.

"Speaking of Sam," Cas lays himself down, Dean following suit. Dean cups his hands behind his head, and Cas rests his head on his elbow. "How is he?"

"Good." Dean nods. "He's happy, actually. Really happy. It's a freaking relief to see him like this. He's got himself a girlfriend and everything!"

"A girlfriend? No one told me about that!" Castiel elbows Dean joyously. "Spill!"

"Well, apparently she's a real looker. Her name's Jess... Uhm, Moore. Yeah, Jessica Moore. She attends the same college as Sammy, they have a flat together already and everything. She makes the best cookies."

"Of course you'd remember her cookies better than he name."

"Naturally." Dean grins lopsidedly.

"I'm happy for Sam."

"Me, too."

"I'm happy for us."

Dean wraps his free arm around Cas shoulders, scooting over closer. "Me, too..."

Castiel breathes in Dean's intoxicating scent. Leather, beer, oil and... What is that? 

Cas can't quite put his finger on it, but it's great. Dean's special scent wafts up to his nose, soothing him. "You smell good..." He mumbles.

"What?" Dean's chest jumps with a laugh.

"Nevermind."

They lay in silence for a moment, still and quiet and calm.

Unfortunately, the pestering call of the phone interrupts their little moment of peace.

"Urgh, I'll be right back." Cas groans, rolling off the bed and hurrying down the stairs. 

Dean hears his voice trail up the floor. "Castiel Novak, who is speaking?"

There's a pause.

"Oh, hi, Nora. No, I'm not busy. Mm hm, yes. Oh, how... Nice. Yes. Well, if you're comfortable with that? Sure, happy to help. Okay, yeah... Yeah. Alright, goodbye." There's a beep and Castiel's pokes his head around the corner. "Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"We're going to have to cancel tonight."

Dean leaps off the bed. "What?!"

"Well..." Cas' voice turns shameful. "I promised Nora- you know my work colleague?"

"Yeah, the bossy blonde."

"Yeah, well... She's a single mom, and I promised her that if she ever needed help, she could call."

"And?"

"She needs help."

"With?" Dean raises his eyebrows.

Castiel pauses. "Babysitting."

Dean doubles over with laughter.

 

6 p.m. rolls around faster than Castiel would like.  
Dean, of course- after a day full of blobbing in front of the TV (Cas can't understand the enjoyment he receives from this, but apparently Dean likes the sound), petting Hannah and making cookies- insisted on coming.

"If we can't go out together, then at least let me tag along with ya, Daddy Daycare."

"For one thing, I am not a father, Dean." Castiel indicates right, pulling up beside a chunky ute. "For another, it's evening, and therefore not 'Daycare'."

"Oh god, you're so technical." Dean rubs his face.

"You're annoying."

"You're a pain in the ass."

"You're despicable."

"Bitch."

"Assbutt."

Dean pulls a face, laughing in bursts. " _Assbutt_?"

Cas shrugs. "It's all I could think of."

"You're adorable."

"You're enchanting."

Cas almost misses the green light, too busy staring at the way the street lights and raindrops reflect entrancing patterns over Dean's face.

He steps on the gas after being jolted by a blaring horn. "Oops."

"Almost miss the light?"

Dean takes Castiel's silence for a yes.

 

Nora's house looms up ahead, Castiel's heart pounding with nerves.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asks.

"Yes, I just... I've never babysat before."

"You'll be fine, Cas. You got me."

"Right." Castiel nods. "Right, yeah."

He steps out of the car, helping Dean to the door and ringing it thrice.

"One minute!" Nora calls, followed by a few clatters and bangs. 

Castiel shifts his weight awkwardly, unsure as to what to do. Dean waits patently behind him. Without thinking, Castiel stoops down to the rose bush beside the door, plucking a fully bloomed flower from the plant, careful not to prick himself.

The door finally swings open, Cas having to quickly pull Dean out of the way as he couldn't see it coming straight for his face. "Hey, Steve!"

"Hello, Nora." Cas holds out the flower, noting the twinkle that sparks in her eyes. 

"Thank-you, Steve. That's very sweet." Her eyes drift to Dean, who's not quite looking at her. "Oh, hello... Um..."

"Dean." Dean bluntly replies. "Castiel's boyfriend."

"Oh, you two are together now?" She claps her hands.

"Yes." Castiel nods, taking Dean's hand.

"How cute. Congratulations!" She smiles. "Alrighty, well... Come in, I'll show you to Tanya." The boys follow Nora into the cosy house, lit warmly. A baby's crib sits blatantly in the corner, hinting rather unsubtly to the fatherless child sitting within it. "Here she is!"

Nora's voice raises and octave as she picks up her baby, cradling her adoringly.

"She's the most winsome appearance." Castiel nods at the child.

"Uh, thank-you?" Nora frowns slightly.

"He means cute." Dean clarifies. 

"Oh, yes." Nora crinkles her nose. "Isn't she just the sweetest?" 

Tanya gurgles.

"Now, she's been fed." Tanya nods at the bottles of milk on the bench. "But she may need more later. There's books and read-along CD's in the corner, you can put her to sleep with that, or music. Basically, just relax, she should sleep the whole time."

"Sure, what temperature does the milk have to be?"

"Oh, about the same as your average baby cappuccino at work." Nora winks.

Cas laughs lightly, nodding. "Of course."

"And don't worry." Nora assures. "Tanya never cries." There's a rap at the door. "Ah, that'll be him!" Nora beams, placing Tanya back in her cradle. "Thanks again, Steve. It means a lot."

"It's no problem, Nora. Enjoy yourself."

"I will! Bye-bye, now!" Nora smiles one last time at the trio before slipping out the door.

Tanya promptly begins squawking.

Dean and Cas exchange a look of terror.

 

"Hello?" Cas stares at the baby, shuffling awkwardly over to her crib. "Uh... Please- please don't."

Dean smirks from his place in the corner of the room. Castiel glares at him, despite the action being pointless.

"Uhm, okay..." Unsurely, Cas reaches into the cradle and plucks up the screaming ball of squish and blankets. "O-o-okay, H-how about a lullaby?"

Tanya wails.

Groaning, Castiel paces around the room, trying desperately to draw a song to mind. Dean just giggles to himself.  
" _Look at what's happened to me,_ _I can't believe it myself;_ _Suddenly I'm up on top of the world,_ _Should've been somebody else._ _Believe it or not,_ _I'm walkin' on air,_ _I never thought I could feel so free;_ _Flyin' away on a wing and a pray'r,_ _Who could it be?_ _Believe it or not, it's just me._ " Cas bounces the baby in his arms, her cries eventually dying down.

"Wow, what d'ya know! It worked." Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Shh!" Cas hisses at him, Tanya squirming uncomfortably in the stranger's arms. Carefully, Cas leans over her crib, hushing her softly. His arms nearly make it to her bed before she starts crying again. "Urgh!"

"Or not."

"Shoosh, Dean. I think she has a temperature." Cas places a finger to the baby's forehead.

"Alright, pass her here." Dean pushes himself off of the wall and stretches his arms out.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Cas notes, implying Dean's blindness may cause some issues. "Maybe I should just call Nora."

"Just shut up and give me the baby." Dean grumbles. Cas rolls his eyes and trudges over, gently placing the screaming child in Dean's arms. Dean smiles, bundling Tanya up close. "Watch and learn, Cassie."

Castiel stares, confused, as he begins to gently pet Tanya's back, humming a tune under his breath. Miraculously, the baby begins to calm down, her tiny hands squishing Dean's cheek and ear as she stretches. "How...?"

"Shh, Cas." Dean continues humming, gently cupping her head. "She's got a little temperature, but nothing serious."

Tanya yawns widely, her eyes drooping shut.

"How are you doing that?" Cas asks, incredulously.

"Superpowers, Cas. Superpowers."

"Oh, of course." Cas smiles, bringing a chair up for Dean to sit in. "Come here."

Dean delicately seats himself on the chair, with Castiel's assistance, still clutching the sleeping baby.

"You're good father material, y'know, Dean." Castiel jokes. Although, a voice in the back of his head points out the truth in his words. Dean _is_ good father material.

"Haha, yeah, nah..." Dean shakes his head.

"You are."

"No..." Dean's voice drops low, his hand stroking Tanya's back soothingly.

Castiel smiles at how gentle Dean is with the baby. He looks so at home with the child in his arms, gently cooing, lips pursed.

"I'll make you a coffee." He hoists himself up.

"That'd be great thanks." Dean whispers softly.

Castiel makes his way into the kitchen, locating Nora's coffee maker and brewing the hot beverage for Dean. His hand rests on the top of the machine, his thoughts wandering.  
He reappears a few minutes later with two mugs, one for Dean and one for himself.

"Thanks." Dean nods when Cas places the cup on his hand. Tanya lays curled on Dean's chest, fast asleep. 

Castiel kisses the top of Dean's head. "You're welcome."

He seats himself on the chair beside his boyfriend and sips thoughtfully at his coffee.

"What's on your mind?" Dean tips his head in Cas' direction.

"Nothing."

"I can practically hear the clogs working, what's up?"

"Nothing." Cas repeats, sipping his drink. "I just... I Dean you."

Dean stares at him for a moment. "You- what?"

"Love is blind. You are blind. You are love. I love you..."

"I Dean you." Dean finishes, grinning. "I remember."

"Yeah..." Cas gently strokes Tanya's cheek. "I Dean you."

"I Dean you, too."


	5. Long Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel decided that two months was long enough...

Castiel decided that two months was long enough.

Two months- almost to the day- since Dean Winchester first directed him to the Roadhouse. Two months- almost to the day- since the shared their first kiss. Two months, two months...

The winter wind howls outside, rattling the windows of the little coffee shop. The grand chandelier in the centre of the ceiling shakes a little, breezes forcing their way through every little crack in the foundation. Snow swirls passed the store, dancing in the wind, little flakes caught in the tidal wave of white. Castiel sighs, following the gusts as they whip passed. He loves this time of year; eyeballing Christmas, snow, warm drinks, scarves and coats. Yes, this is his favourite.

"Steve!" Nora calls from the back of the kitchen.

Castiel turns to her, leaning against the counter. "Mm hm?"

"Could you refill the machine? I think the new pack of sachets is on the shelf by the tin stack."

"Sure." He sighs, trudging over to the pile on the shelves and locating the fresh coffee sachets.

A couple stumble through the door, giggling and smooching. Castiel watches them from the corner of his eye, shoving the circular bags into the coffee machine. The guy, a handsome asian fellow with a long mop of black hair, strolls to the counter, ringing the bell. 

"Just a minute." Castiel replies, putting the last packet into the holder. He slides the compartment shut, waiting for the affirmation of the green light.

"I'll have the usual, darling!" The girl calls to her partner, her voice soft and sweet.

"Sure thing." He replies. Castiel tries not to seem like a pervert, listening on their conversation. They just seem so sweet, so in love.

This is how he feels with Dean.

"May I take your order?" He asks politely.

"Uh, yes. Can I have two lattes, please?"

Castiel nods. "Can I take your name?"

"Kevin."

Castiel smiles, writing the name down and grabbing two mugs. Kevin leaves to sit beside his partner, smiling adoringly at her.  
Castiel hears snippets of their conversation. Comments on the weather, what to have for dinner, how study is going...

He fills the mugs with expresso and frothy, hot milk; carefully placing the two cups- complete with saucers, napkins, and complementary cookies on the counter. "Order for Kevin!"

The young man stands, taking the mugs and thanking him before sitting back down. Castiel traces the girl's movements, watching as her hand slides onto Kevin's, gently rubbing circles on his knuckles. Such a simple gesture, yet so tender.  
Castiel can imagine touching Dean's hand like that. The tough, calloused fingers and soft palms. Connecting the freckles that trail up his arm...

Yes, two months was long enough.

Castiel wants to go further with Dean.

 

His shift ends an hour later, but Castiel finds himself so worked up and nervous that he simply can't leave.

"Castiel?" Nora says, his actual name sounding strange in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." He nods. "I'm just- I'm waiting for the blizzard to calm down."

"You do know it's only forecasted to get worse, right?" She giggles at him.

"Really?" He feigns surprise. Of course he already knew it would only get worse, any fool could see it.

"Mm, yeah." She folds her lips. "Look, Steve, I have to go get Tanya from daycare, so... Would you mind?"

"Right, sorry. I'm leaving now." Cas apologises sincerely, feeling bad for having held Nora up.

"Thanks."

He pulls on his coat and wraps a scarf tight around his neck, tugging gloves onto his fingers.

"Hey, Steve," Nora stops as he heads out the door. "I forgot, this is your last shift before Christmas, isn't it?"

Castiel pauses. "Yes, I believe so."

"Well," Nora smiles, pulling him into a tight hug. "In case I don't see you again, merry Christmas!" She pecks his cheek lightly as she pulls away.

"Merry Christmas, Nora. Give Tanya a cuddle from Dean and I."

She smiles warmly. "I will."

* * *

Castiel had been to Dean's little house in the outskirts of town twice before. But in this weather, he was almost certain he'd get lost.

 

Heart pounding nervously, he reaches up to knock on the door of the building he hopes is Dean's, praying no stranger will open it.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Dean's voice sings out from the kitchen. "Just a minute!"

"Hello, Dean!"

Theres a pause, and a moment later the door is flung open. "Cas!" Dean envelopes him in a bone crushing hug.

"Yes, yes. Hello." Cas pats his back, struggling to breathe.

"Sorry," Dean pulls away. Castiel's heart almost stops at the look on his face.

Dean's face is blotchy, his lashes are saturated and tear stains still evident on his cheeks.

"Dean..." Cas breathes. "Dean, are you okay?"

"Can you come in?" Dean's voice quakes a little.

Castiel nods and follows him in, concern clawing at his throat. "Is everything alright?"

Dean shakes his head, tears prickling his eyes, glossing over them.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't do it."

"Do what?" Cas tilts his head.

"I can't afford it. Even with their help, I just can't. And even if I- if I could, I'm not sure I'd do it. It might not even work!" A single droplet slips from Dean's right eye, spilling over his lid and cascading down his cheek to the crevice of his lips.

"Dean," Cas says slowly, putting a hand on his arm. "I don't understand."

"The operation." Deans sighs forcefully. "My-my parents..."

Cas hushes him, his voice wobbling dangerously. Leading his wrecked boyfriend to the couch, Cas holds him as he sinks into his arms, small sobs escaping his trembling lips. "Start from the beginning, take your time." He says, soothingly.

"My parents," Dean inhales deeply. "They found this... Operation. This procedure. It's had good reviews- for restoring eyesight." He points to his eyes. "They want me to go through with it. They've rung up about it and everything. They're giving me money for Christmas. The thing is, Cas, it's so fucking expensive..."

Castiel's grip on Dean tightens, feeling his muscles tensing.

"I could never afford it- even with mum and dad's help. Sam's racing around, trying to find a job for me, looking for an extra job for himself. He's hell bent on getting me enough cash to pay for the stupid thing, but it's just... It's just not possible, Cas."

"How much is it?"

"20 grand at the least." Dean sniffles.

"Dear God..." Cas exhales. That _is_ a lot of money, even for your average household; but Dean has financial trouble as it is without trying to scrape up _that_ much spare change.

"I don't... I don't want to be blind _forever_." Dean's voice is thick and his sentence cracked by whimpers.

Castiel's heart aches for his lover, his chest caving in on itself. "You won't, Dean. We'll get the money."

Dean sniffs. "That's just what Sam said."

"And he was right." Cas keeps his voice as soft and delicate as possible, swallowing down his own wave of emotion. "Speaking of Sam, where is he?"

"Staying at Jess'. I told him to get out and enjoy himself." Dean exhales heavily. "I didn't want him to see me like this."

"Oh, Dean..." Cas murmurs.

"No, I'm just being stupid. I don't even know why I'm crying." Dean swipes angrily at his tears.

Cas takes ahold of one of his hands, grasping it gently. His lifts his fingers to slide them gently over the smooth top of Dean's hand, stroking his fingers, the way the girl did in the coffee shop.

Dean tries to look at him, glasses still clung to his nose, shielding his eyes. His lips are parted, breath seeping out ragged and shaky. "Cas..."

Castiel ignores him, leaning in to capture his lips, tenderly holding them in his own. He moves his jaw, deepening the kiss, hand still caressing Dean's, eliciting a whimper from the other man. "It's going to be okay. You're allowed to cry, don't be ashamed. We all do, cry."

"Cas..." Dean tries again, voice fading.

"Sh, Dean." Cas hushes, kissing his nose, his temple, his brow. "Shh..."

Dean's hand reaches for Cas face, feeling him, reading him. Cas sits still for a moment, allowing him.

"You're so beautiful." Dean whispers.

"You don't know that, Dean." Cas chuckles lightly. 

"Yes, I do." Dean kisses his hand.

Cas presses his lips to the remaining tears trickling down to Dean's chin, kissing them away. His mouth trails up to his eyes where he stops, halted by the rims of Dean's glasses. "Take them off."

Dean swallows. "Why?"

"I want to see your eyes." Cas had yet to see Dean's eyes without their tinted shield- without closed lids. He wants to see his eyes. Gateway to the soul, they say. Cas wants- _needs_ \- to see.

Dean bites his lip, slowly pulling the glasses away, eyelids shut.

Cas presses gentle kisses to both lids. "Open your eyes, Dean."

Slowly, very slowly, Dean's lashes flutter, lids sliding back to reveal his pale irises.

Cas gasps softly, barely audible.   
They're so faded, whitened and sick looking. The rims around his pupils hint at their original green. Green eyes. Cas can imagine Dean with bright, lively green eyes.

What a shame. Then again, despite their blindness, Dean's eyes are the most beautiful he's ever seen. Truly, honestly.

"They're beautiful." He breathes.

Dean snorts. "No, they're ugly. Blind people have ugly eyes- my eyes are ugly."

"No." Cas shakes his head, touching the corner of Dean's left eye. "Don;t say such things. That's not at all true. They're gorgeous- _you're_ gorgeous."

Dean closes his eyes. "You don't mean that."

"No, I do. I really do." Cas' heart yearns for Dean to understand. Why won't he understand?

Dean places his hand on Cas' chest, feeling over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. "Kiss me again."

Castiel is in no state to decline, bending forward to meet Dean's mouth, kissing him again. He shyly nips at Dean's lower lip, tongue running over lush, pink skin. Dean opens his mouth, giving Cas permission to enter. Heart pounding, Castiel pushes his tongue into Dean's mouth, gliding it over his teeth. Dean's flavour explodes his taste buds, a tingling sensation crawling through his gut. Dean's breath blows warm in his face, his own tongue laying still, letting Cas explore.

Eventually, on the brink of turning blue, Cas pulls away, panting like a dog on a summers day.

The snow falls harder outside, the howling wind sighing through the house.

Dean's eyes are open, unblinking, pale and exquisite. His chest heaves and his lips are puffy and red. He looks ravishing like this. Devine.  
Castiel feels guilty, as if he's taking advantage of Dean's emotional state, but he can't help himself. Dean just looks so beautiful like this.  
He shifts forward, crashing their mouths together again, taking Dean by surprise, his arms flailing. Adrenalin pumps through his veins, coursing through his body, clouding his thoughts. All he can think about is how beautiful Dean is.

_So, so beautiful_.

So he tells him. "You're beautiful." He gasps between kisses. "So beautiful. You're so beautiful."

Dean just sighs, breath hitching when Cas latches onto to his neck. He tilts his head back, allowing him more access, stifling a moan.  
Cas presses his mouth to the soft spot where Dean's neck meets his shoulder and sucks lightly. When he pulls back, lips making a little sound as they're tugged away, he notices the skin has developed a small red-purple patch.

"Cas," Dean hums, eyes closed lazily. "Did you just give me a hickie?"

Castiel chuckles. "Yes, I believe so."

"Give me another one?"

Cas doesn't deny Dean this request, latching onto his neck again, sucking a little harder. Dean moans, his voice gravelly from crying. Cas' hands trail up Dean's body; one rubbing his knee, the other pressing his chest. Dean's arms remain thrown out behind him, supporting their weight.

Cas edges closer, practically sitting on Dean, nuzzling his neck, breathing his scent. "So beautiful..."

Dean lies back, hands grabbing Castiel around the waist. "Don't stop there." He pants, pulling Cas onto him.

Their crotches brush slightly and Cas bites back a moan. _Two months was long enough. Two months was long enough..._

Who could blame innocent little Castiel for craving a force of nature as incredibly desirable as Dean Winchester? He was only human.

"Dean?"

"Mm?"

"Can I..." He swallows back he surge of nerves. "Touch you?"

Dean splutters. "What?"

Castiel bites his lip, flushing red.

"Oh. _Oh_ , you mean..." Dean nods downwards.

"Yes..." Cas wishes he could just nod, his voice awkwardly strained. But, with Dean's non-existent sight, it would be pointless.

Dean smiles lopsidedly. "You're asking permission?"

"Well... Yes. It seems polite."

Dean laughs, a real, full laugh. "Polite..." He shakes his head. "Sure, Cas. You can... God, this is so weird."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"No, no." Dean strokes his face, nearly missing him. "You can touch me."

Castiel's heart summersaults. Stretching out to meet Dean's lips, pressing their chest flush together, he kisses him slowly. The lights in the house are off and, as evening draws nearer, the outside light fades, drenching them in darkness.

Dean whimpers when Cas slides down, sitting up to keep their lips together as long as possible. Cas pulls away from him, placing a shy hand on Dean's crotch. Dean jumps and Cas retracts his hand. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Dean nods. "I just- I wasn't expecting that. I mean, I can't see, so..." He swallows.

Of course, Castiel understands. He slips back further, placing his hands on Dean's feet. He's weary of the fact that Dean can't see, and is virtually unprepared for everything, now. Not wanting to spook him, Cas decides to take his time, stroking his hands up Dean's legs so he knows exactly where he is. Dean's breath grows louder and harder as Cas' hands approach the sensitive bulge in his pants.  
Heart like a hummingbird's wings, Cas finally presses a hand to Dean's pants. The protrusion beneath his fingers warm and firm, he finds himself frozen, unable to move. What does he do now?

Dean, who appears to have stopped breathing entirely, takes Cas' hand, moving it slowly, rhythmically up and down. Cas eyes pop, mouth falling open. Is he really doing this right now? He shakes his head, just to make sure he isn't dreaming. But he's not. He's really here, a gasping Dean beneath him, palm pressing sensitively to his boyfriend's crotch. Dean's hand slips back, arm thrown over his eyes as Cas continues to move his hand the way Dean had guided him to. Growing bolder, Cas begins to move his hand faster, pressuring his palm into Dean's erection a little harder. Dean moans, leg dragging up then down again. "Oh, my god, Cas..."

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas' brow furrows worriedly.

"Yes. God, yes. Just- just keep..." Dean bites his lip as Cas presses harder. Is he really doing this to Dean? Cas wishes he could tell the little nagging questions in the back of his mind to shut up.

Was it just him, or was Dean getting _harder_. Of course Castiel knew how erections worked, but he never imagined he'd be... Well...

He shifts, climbing his body back up on top of Dean, hand shifting around the other way, rocking his hip against Dean's. "So, so beautiful..."

Dean moans loudly- louder than before. Cas rocks his hips again, a little wave of pleasure sparking up. Again. Again.  
Castiel braces his left hand on Dean's shoulder, right hand gripping the couch, nothing between them now. He can feel Dean's erection against his, incredibly stiff. His hips seem to work on their own, rolling against Dean, relishing in his little whimpers, arm still thrown over his eyes.

About a minute of increased friction passes before Dean stutters out a broken little sentence. "Cas, w-wait. Wait. Ca-as..." He hisses.

"Dean?" Cas doesn't cease his rocking, continuing to press against Dean, who's now wriggling slightly under him.

"Don't- you might..." Dean swallows. "I'm- Cas. Stop."

"It's alright, Dean."

Dean whines, face scrunching. Cas, realising what's happening, endeavours to sway harder, faster, Dean puffing. "Cas..." Dean's hips swing up to meet him, bucking slightly.

"It's alright, Dean. It's okay." Castiel soothes, rubbing a hand up Dean's chest, kissing at his neck.

A moment later, Dean cries out, surging up. Cas catches him in his arms, cradling his head in the crook of his neck as Dean shivers, trembling violently.

Chests heaving, Castiel waits until Dean's shaking subsides and his head begins to fall dazedly on his shoulder to gently lay him down, climbing off him. "Dean? Are you okay?"

Dean's eyelids are slack, closed lazily over his eyes, a small smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "Cas, I have never been better."

"Oh, thank God." Cas presses his forehead to him arms.

"Were you seriously worried about me?"

"You sounded pained."

"I was orgasming, Cas."

"Right." Cas smirks, laughing softly. "Yeah."

"I love you." Dean says, warmth in his smile, sleep weighing on his voice.

"I Dean you."

"Thank-you. For cheering me up."

"My pleasure."

Dean grins, quirking an eyebrow. "I bet."

They're both reduced to giggles.


	6. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Dean could see, he probably would have thought the same thing.
> 
> But Dean can't see, and that is a shame...

The streets around town twinkle with dazzling lights, Christmas trees set proudly in each store. Heavenly Brew's entire front window is taken up by seasons greetings stickers, fake frosting, decorations, and (for the first time) a real Christmas tree. The tree's scent mingles with the scent of coffee and the ancient fireplace, combining creating one of the most pleasant aromas Castiel has ever encountered.

second only to Dean's special smell, something that intoxicates him like nothing else- not even the smell of Christmas.

The cars slip passed the windows; headlights flashing, tires screeching on the snow-glossed tarmac.

"I love Christmas."

"I love hot chocolates." Dean sucks up a stray marshmallow.

Cas rolls his eyes. "Only three days to go." His face breaks into a childish smile.

"Thank god..." Dean sighs.

"Oh, don't be such a Grinch, Dean."

Dean slurps at his drink. "What can I say, Cas? I don't get the whole Christmas thing."

"But- but," Cas pulls his puppy face. "But _Christmas_ , Dean! Lights and music! presents and family..." He shoots Dean a pointed look. " _Food_."

That grabs his boyfriend's attention. "Well... There _is_ food."

"There's me, as well." Cas nudges him.

"I get you everyday, Cassie."

"True, but Christmas gives me an excuse to spoil you."

"I thought you already were!" Dean lifts his mug of Cas' specially brewed hot choc.

Castiel smiles. _If only he knew_...

 

Cas, arm and arm with Dean, leads them down the street once his shift finishes, marvelling at the decor. Christmas tunes blast from the town's loudspeaker, set atop the community centre. Carols float from the small church Cas attends. Shopfronts beam with multicoloured bulbs, houses setting up their own festive decorations.

"We should decorate your place." Cas mutters absently.

"I haven't got any lights."

"What?!" Cas stops mid-step. "No lights? Dean!"

"As I said, Cas, I'm not really into the whole Christmas thing. I don't see the point of buying lights for it."

"You can have mine."

Dean scoffs. "Nah, you put 'em up on your apartment."

"No, my apartment is too small. Besides, I'm not sure I'm allowed, the neighbours might complain."

"Scrooges."

"You're one to talk!" Cas pokes Dean's cheek. "Anyway, why don't we decorate your place?"

"Seriously?"

"I'll pay the power bills."

"There's no convincing you otherwise, is there?" Dean sighs.

"Nope."

Dean nods, mouth scrunching. "Fine."

* * *

 

Castiel rolls into Dean's driveway at a little passed 7 that evening, arms laden with boxes of Christmas-themed lights.

"Let me give you a hand with that." Sam calls, slipping out the front door and jogging over to help.

"Thank-you." Castiel groans, the weight straining his arm muscles.

"No worries. Good you see you again, Cas." Sam smiles.

"Same to you, Sam. How are you?" Castiel activates Small Talk Mode.

Sam smiles, nodding towards the lounge room. "I'm great. Jess is here, wants to meet you."

Cas nods, beaming.

The pair drop the boxes by the door, removing their shoes before Mother-Hen-Dean tells them off for tracking mud through the house. It's a mystery how he knows, but he somehow can always tell when you've left dirty footprints on his floor.  
Cas follows Sam into the living room, noting the pretty blonde girl sitting cross-legged on the couch. She stands and smiles warmly at him as he enters.

"Hi, you must be Castiel." She extends a slender arm, hand smooth and nails pedicured nicely. "I'm Jessica Moore. It's nice to meet you." Her eyes twinkle.

Cas can see why Sam loves her so much. She's beautiful, and genuine. "Castiel Novak, yes. It's an honour to make your acquaintance, Miss Moore."

"Ooh," She touches a hand to her mouth, blushing. "What manners! You could learn a thing or two from him, Dean!" she calls over her shoulder.

Jessica winks at Cas and takes Sam's hand, leading him to the couch. Cas watches them as the snuggle together, Sam pecking Jess' nose- Jess, in turn, crinkling said nose like a kitten.

He heads for the kitchen, finding Dean sipping a beer, leaning relaxed against the counter. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas."

"I brought the lights."

"Awesome."

Cas' eyes shift to the couple on the couch, still wary of his display of affection around others. They seem distracted, however, so he slides forward and presses a quick kiss to Dean's unoccupied lips. "I love you, Grinch."

"Shuddup, Frosty."

Castiel grins. 

Music suddenly floods from the next room, bubbly tunes washing over the pair.

"Looks like Sammy found the Christmas CD." Dean groans.

"Aw, I love Christmas music!" Castiel pouts. " _Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose_ ," He bops Dean on the nose. " _And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows_!"

"Like a lightbulb!" Voices chorus next-door, followed by giggles.

"Urgh, you lot..." Dean grumbles. "Let's just get these lights up."

 

10 minutes later Cas, Sam and Jess stand facing the front of the house, frosty air nipping at their noses and ears. Dean leans on the doorway, unable to help much.

"Alright, huddle in!" Sam calls, the other two leaning their heads in. "Cas, you take the blow-up Santa and snowman, pop them up somewhere- make sure to secure them!" Castiel nods. "Jess, you hold the ladder and pass the the lights up, I'll hang 'em."

They clap hands enthusiastically, parting ways to complete their 'missions'. Cas trudges through the snow to the front lawn, picking the perfect spot for the Santa-sleigh combo. Unfolding the blow-up, he hooks the air pump up and begins pushing air into the currently rather pathetic-looking reindeer. Sam clambers up the ladder, not needing many steps to reach the roof thanks to his ridiculous height, Jess at his feet.

Cas ties the decorations down once they've been filled with air, shifting back to admire his handiwork. Nodding, satisfied, he walks back to the boxes and pulls out the tree sculptures. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want these up?"

Sam twists his head in his direction, nodding. "Yep, the reindeer, as well."

Cas puts a thumb up, collecting the other boxes. Dean still crowds the doorway, looking a little sad in the warm glow of the house. Cas' heart suddenly pangs with guilt, knowing Dean can't join in with the decorating, nor enjoy the after-product.

He slowly approaches Dean, revelling in the warmth of the house compared to outside air. "Dean?"

Dean raises his head at his name, scoping for the source.

"Over here," Cas calls. Dean's head finds him. "Dean, are you okay?"

His boyfriend nods. "Yeah."

"Would you like to help me decorate?"

Dean smirks, not quite erasing the sadness set in the undertones of his voice. "I can't exactly."

"I'll help you."

"You'll help me help you." Dean scoffs, kicking at the ground. "Yeah, right..."

"Come on," Castiel takes his hand, feeling the coolness through his gloves. "You can borrow my gloves."

Cas drags Dean from the comfort of the house, leading him to the front lawn. He slips his woollen gloves onto Dean's frozen fingers, ignore the frosty nip at his own tips.

"Cas, I can't-" Cas shuts him up with a clap of his hand over his mouth. 

"Just, hold this." Cas puts one of the wire trees in Dean's hands, watching as his runs his fingers along the large coil.

"What is it?"

"A metal tree, it lights up."

"Oh, cool." Dean nods.

"Yes," Castiel steps bak. "Now, Dean, follow my voice."

Dean takes a cautious step forward, clutching the tree. "Am I going the right way?"

"Yes, now step again." Dean steps. "Uhm, four more steps."

Dean wobbles, counting user his breath. "Yeah?"

"Yes, now... Two steps to your right, three forward, three right, again."

Dean pulls a face, stepping forward. "One, two... One, two three... One, two." He looks up in Cas direction, as if asking for confirmation.

"One more step."

Dean steps out once more. "Three."

"Perfect." Cas praises. "Now, put the tree down. If you feel around, you should find a switch. Flick it."

Dean kneels to the ground, gently settling the decoration into the snow. His hands roam the wire, feeling for the switch.  
A second later, the tree lights up.

"Well done, Dean!" Cas claps. Dean smiles, sitting back on his haunches. Cas comes to stand beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Is it on?"

"Yeah."

Dean raises a hand, pulling his glasses away. His eyes blink open, scrunched a little. "Oh, yes."

"Can you see it?" Castiel frowns, staring at him.

"Just the light. Just a fuzzy glow in the darkness. I can't really _see_ it."

"Oh," Cas bobs his head. "Right."

"Thank-you, Cas." His voice is soft, sincere.

"No problem, Dean." Cas leans down to kiss his hair.

 

Together, Dean and Cas decorate the rest of the front yard and driveway; candy canes, signs, lights, blow-ups...  
Sam and Jess finish the harder task of hanging up lights, and the final product is marvellous. 

The group steps back, shuffling their feet in the cold and admiring their handiwork. Jess snuggles into Sam's arms and Cas into Dean's, the brothers standing side by side, holding their lovers.

"It's beautiful." Dean breathes. The others turn to him. "I've never... seen so much light..."

"I wish you could see it for real." Cas sighs. "It really is beautiful."

Sam and Jess nod, adopting 'such a shame' faces. Dean's eyes glisten, reflecting the lights in their washed-out greens. Cas notes how beautiful Dean looks shrouded with light.

If Dean could see, he probably would have thought the same thing. Castiel looks equally as stunning, the twinkling brilliance flooding his incandescent eyes, illuminating the deep blue of his irises.

But Dean can't see, and that is a shame. 


	7. The Grinch Who Loved Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first carollers arrive at 5 o'clock...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Smut scene. If you're one of those people who prefer not to read that sort of thing, feel free to skip ahead when you see the second margin...

The first carollers arrive at 5 o'clock. Dean answers the door.

"Merry Christmas!" They chorus. Dean looks a bit disgruntled, rubbing his over-sensitive ears. Castiel comes to his rescue.

"Thank-you!" He smiles cheerily.

"May we sing for you?" A plump, elderly lady asks, standing no higher than Castiel's elbow.

"Sure." Cas nods. Sam and Jess gathering around.

The group break into a tuneful chorus of festive carols. Castiel, Sam and Jessica all smile warmly, thanking the group as they depart. Dean, however, lurks in the background like a little dark storm cloud on a sunny day.

"What's the matter Dean?" Cas asks as he closes the door.

"Nothing." Dean shakes his head, not facing his concerned boyfriend.

"Dean, look at me."

"I can't, Cas, remember? I can't see."

Castiel feels his heart sink a little. Something is definitely wrong with Dean. It's Christmas eve, he should be happy!  
"Sorry, Dean. I didn't mean-"

"Forget it, Cas." Dean cuts him short. Stick in hand, he feels his way back into the living area, sinking into the armchair by the tree. Sam shoots Cas a questioning look and he shrugs, eyebrows furrowing. Jess sips awkwardly at her eggnog.

"Hey, Cas..." Sam starts, eyes shifting in Dean's direction. "Come help me move this thing." He nods his head at the kitchen. Taking the hint, Castiel follows him.

"What's the matter?" Cas asks as soon as they're out of earshot.

Sam turns to him, sighing heavily. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Oh," Cas clears his throat. "Well..."

"Dean giving you a hard time?" Sam seems unsurprised, which confuses Cas some.

"It's more like he's giving himself a hard time." Castiel frowns. "Why does he hate Christmas so much?"

"Well, he never used to." Sam stares passed Cas, sighing. "He used to love it."

"Really?" Cas finds that hard to imagine.

"Really." Sam stretches his arms back against the counter, crossing one leg over the other. "Did Dean tell you how he lost his eyesight?"

Cas' hesitates. "No..."

"Hmm," Sam huffs. "Well... It was a few years ago. '05, I'm pretty sure. Time gets a bit muddled..." He pauses. "Yes, December 2005. God, almost a decade now..." Sam licks his lips. "We were driving the Impala- well,  _Dean_  was driving the Impala."

Castiel bites his lip, heart fluttering pathetically in his chest. The way this story is going- it doesn't have a happy ending...

"It was the worst weather we'd ever seen down in Kansas, where we were born. But Dean didn't let a damn blizzard stop him, oh no..." Sam's throat constricts. He lowers his tone, face darkening. "We were blasting rock versions of Christmas songs, y'know. Christmas- the Dean way. And smiling, laughing. It was great! It was. We were young and stupid... But then a semi came around the corner and-"

Castiel places a consoling hand on Sam's trembling shoulder, the younger man's hand clasped to his face. "Oh, Sam..."

"When he woke up, he couldn't see a thing." A tear slips down his cheek, but Sam wipes it away, sniffing. "Imagine being 20, with your whole life ahead of you, and suddenly some drunk crashes into your car on Christmas Eve. Imagine waking up and seeing... Seeing nothing. Imagine having your 16-year-old brother beside you, not knowing if he was okay or not because you were  _blind_."

"I honestly can't." Cas bites his lip.

"No, neither can I. And I was there." Sam shakes his head, breathing deeply. "Anyway, that's why he hates Christmas. He crashed his car, almost died, woke up from a coma blind. Blind for the rest of his life."

"That... Makes a lot of sense."

Sam nods solemnly. "I'm sorry about-" He gestures to his face, blotchy and wet. "I thought you needed to know. Just, don't tell him, ok? Don't tell him I told you. He'll tell you himself, when he's ready."

* * *

Castiel makes extra sure Dean feels loved after that. Hugging him, kissing him and praising him as often and for as long as possible. Dean seems to melt into him, soaking it all up, feeling extra soppy this evening.

 

"I love you." Cas says for the hundredth time.

Dean just buries his face into the crook of his neck, glasses discarded on the table so he can press his face into Cas a hard as he likes without the plastic intrusion. Jess stares adoringly at them, making little 'aw' sounds. Even Sam seems to put up with the pair's antics for this evening; understanding, like the good brother he is, how important it is for Dean to feel safe and happy.

"Dinner'll be ready soon." Jess stands, placing a hand on Cas' back.

He smiles and nods, poking Dean. "You hear that?"

"I'm not that hungry..." Dean grumbles.

"What?!" Castiel looks aghast. "Dean Winchester is  _not hungry_?! Are pigs flying?"

"Shut it, Cas." Dean whacks him lightly.

Castiel pulls away, holding Dean's arms as they stand in front of the Christmas tree. "Please eat something, Dean."

His boyfriend rolls his eyes. "Fine."

"Good." 

Castiel takes Dean's hand and drags him to the table, sitting him at the head and taking a seat to his right. The Winchester's table is oddly large for a household of only two. It's a long, rectangular six-seater made of mahogany with a glossy finish and silk-covered chairs.

_An expensive set_ , Castiel thinks.

It does seem odd.

Sam waltzes in sporting a 'Kiss The Chef' apron and holding the roast high. "Who's hungry?"

Castiel and Jess' hands shoot straight up, Dean, however, raises his slowly, hesitantly. The platter is placed on the table, joined later by bowls of vegetables, potatoes, breads and dips, and many other assorted delicacies.

Cas forces everyone to say grace, blessing the food before they all dive in, stomachs gurgling. Dean eventually settles, piling samples on his plate, and Castiel smiles, glad he is seeming to enjoy himself at least a little.

When, finally, they begin to feel like they simply can't eat another bite, Sam calls for presents and they each waddle out to the tree. Sam put's a Santa hat on Cas, fixing a pair of reindeer antler's on his own noggin.

"Bet you look like a real moose, now." Dean jokes.

Sam pouts, pulling a rather ridiculous 'bitch face'. "Shut up, squirrel."

"Squirrel?" Cas raises an eyebrow.

"Have you ever seen shorty on caffeine? God, it's a good thing you give him hot chocolate, instead!" Sam laughs and it's Dean's turn to pout.  
Jess, covering her mouth to hide her own giggles, places a hand on Sam's shoulder to quieten him. "Let's get the the presents, yeah? Santa, you wanna pass some out?"

Castiel nods, crawling to the small pile. "Ho, ho, ho..." He chuckles, picking up a large, flat-ish gift wrapped rather horrendously. Reading the tag, it is revealed to be a gift to Sam from Dean, of course. Cas passes him a gift, swapping with Sam who passes Dean his gift from him. Cas then gets his gift from Sam and Jess gets her gift from Cas. On the count of three, they all tear into their first round of presents.

A symphony of laughs, gasps and 'oh my's erupt from the group.

Cas receives a mug, apron and pen set, each sporting coffee cups and other beverage related themes. And, God forbid, a pack of 'coffee flavoured condoms'. Cas laughs a thank-you, Sam explaining that he expects to see Cas using them in the shop. Well, not  _all_  of them. Cas promises he will.

Sam receives a magazine and a notebook. And a slip of paper explaining the Dean has payed for his next set of course books. There is a bit of tension due to the latter, but it is soon put on the back-burner.

Dean receives car oil for the Impala, a box of chocolates, and a chefs hat. Cas explains his gifts as he feels them over with his hands. Dean just grins from ear to ear. "Yeeeeah! Fuel for me and fuel for my baby, thanks Sammy."

Jessica receives a diamante earring set and a $50 Heavenly Brewed gift voucher from Cas. "That's a lot of coffee!" She gasps.

"Yes, well... You'll be needing it, with your college studies coming up." Jess nods, gratefully, and pecks him on the cheek.  
They then decide to go for dessert before opening another set.

 

Desert consists of ice cream, berries, an assortment of toppings and Dean's homemade pies. Pecan (his favourite), apple and blueberry. Everyone makes a point of complimenting Dean on his pie, which is well deserved. Dean's pies, despite being made by an unschooled blind guy, are the best Castiel has ever tasted.  
Cas can't help but imagine tasting the remnants of the pies in Dean's mouth as he kisses him. He bites his lip;  _don't think like that here_.

Sam leans back, petting his stomach. Jess yawns, Cas catching the gesture from her, the digestion making them both rather sleepy. Dean just smiles, satisfied-like.

"More presents?" Jess suggests. Sam takes her hand, nodding, and they all make their way back to the tree. Cas removes his hat, placing it on Dean who frowns.

"What is that?"

"A Santa hat."

Dean huffs and goes to remove it, his hands being smacked away by Cas. "Uh uh..."

"Fine." Dean rolls out his lower lip, grumping like a 5-year-old.

"Dean, you're too old to act like a kindergartener."

"I'm not old!"

"You're almost 30!"

Sam and Jess giggle. 

"Whatever, just get the presents."

Cas follows his orders, feeling under the tree. Together with Sam, he passes the remaining presents out amongst the group.  
Sam opens his gifts from Cas and Dean. Cas opens his gift from Jess. Jess opens her gift from Dean. Dean opens his gift from Jess.

They all thank each other profusely.

Then it comes time for each pair to open their gifts to each other. The air around the group is electric; ecstatic and nervous.

They decide to go one person at a time. So Sam goes first.

Jess blushes, biting her nails as Sam takes his box from her, perfectly wrapped. He unwraps it with nimble fingers, removing the lid. Dean and Cas lean in, trying to get a peak as Sam's jaw drops.

His hand reaches in, pulling out a pair of tickets- to Europe. Plane tickets to Europe. Cas knew Jess was wealthy, but his mind was positively blown.  
"I've arranged it all. All the accommodation, tickets, prices, transport. It's all ready." She smiles. "We leave in April, and stay for 2 months. I know you'll be there for your birthday, I hope you don't mind..." She pulls the corner of her mouth down. "I thought spring was a good time to be there. And we're both on leave by then, so..."

Sam looks like he might cry. "It's perfect. It's _perfect_ , Jess! Perfect!" He wraps her up in his arms, pressing his lips furiously to hers. Dean and Cas turn away, giving them some privacy. Dean raises his eyebrows, whistling lowly and Cas nods. It's a big gift.

Then it's Cas' turn. His fingers tremble slightly as Dean passes him his gift. Delicately, he unwraps the paper, peeling the tape back with care.

The packaging falls away to reveal a metallic silver box. Cas raises an eyebrow and Dean, taking his silence as a question, nods at it. "Open it."

So Cas does.

Inside is a cross. A silver cross necklace- a crucifix- dangling from a black chord. Cas picks it up, marvelling at the shine, the craftsmanship. A tiny pair of angel wings is engraved on one side, and on the other is his and Dean's names in a messy scrawl.

"Dean..." He gasps.

"Made it myself." 

Cas stares at him. "You're joking."

"No," Sam chimes in. "He really did. I had to supervise a little, y'know. But he did it."

"It's beautiful."

"Is it? I wasn't quite sure..." Dean holds out his hand. Cas places the necklace in his palm and he feels for the latch, inviting Cas to lean in so he can tie it around his neck.

"How beautiful." Jess sighs, hands clasped to her lips, tears welling in her eyes. "You two..."

Cas touches the symbol dangling around his neck, falling to rest beside his heart. He loves it. "Thank-you."

Dean just smiles.

Then Cas grabs his gift to Dean, looking at Sam to ask if it was okay.

"Yeah, sure." Sam waves his hand. "I wanted to do Jess' last, anyway."

Cas nods, sitting down before Dean. He'd thought long and hard about what he wanted to give Dean. He'd wanted to give him his sight back, of course, but Cas was no doctor. No miracle worker.

So, this is the next best thing.

"Here you go." Cas places the small package in Dean's hands. Dean runs his finger tips over the paper to find the edges, tearing into it. Inside is a small metal plaque, a card and a slip of paper. The card, which Cas then takes, is red and sports a glitter-covered reindeer. "Shall I read the card?"

Dean nods, holding his hands still for the time being. Cas is grateful, not wanting him to feel the gift just yet.

" _Dear Dean_ ," He begins. " _I have pondered over your gift for a long while now. I initially wanted to give you your sight, as I'm sure many others have, also. But I am no angel, as much as I am sure you'd disagree. So, I wish to give you the next best thing. I hope that someday you can read the rest of this card yourself. Until then, I Dean you- Castiel Novak_."

Dean smiles, but there's the hint of a frown crinkled in his brow. Cas takes his hands and places them on the plaque. "What?"

"Feel it. I did it myself."

So Dean does, and slowly his eyebrows lift and his eyes bulge, his jaw drops open the way Sam's did. 

Cas had spent hours engraving the little piece of flat, shining metal with braille for Dean to read. The braille explaining that the slip of paper- the  _check-_  is worth $10,000, and is hopefully enough- combined with the money from his parents and the money he'll save- to pay for the eye operation and the expenses after that.

Dean cries.

Sam's lower lip begins to tremble and he quickly looks away, blinking hard, after it's explained to him.

Jess tears up, making small squeaking noises and clutching her hands together.

And, after a moment, Castiel begins to cry, too.

"It's too much, it's too much..." Dean sobs, his head resuming its trademark place, buried in the curve of Cas' shoulder. "It's too much, Castiel."

"No, Dean. It's not."

"How long will it take you to re-earn this much? How many shifts?"

"It doesn't matter."

Dean just sobs harder, grasping the slab and check tightly.

Once everyone has calmed down a little, tissues scattered about the place, Sam decides to announce his second gift to Dean.

"It can kinda be counted as a part two to Cas'." He explains, darting off into the next room. Jess has a smile on her face that makes it obvious she knows what's happening. 

Sam reappears, a massive box balanced in his arms.

"Just, Urhm..." Sam wobbles, almost dropping the box. A small yap is heard from his direction.

"Sam, was that _you_ , or...?" Dean quirks an eyebrow.

Sam chuckles and Cas, slowly catching on, pulls an 'Oh' face. The box is placed next to Dean and he is instructed to open the lid.

Which he does. And a second later he is knocked to the ground by a big puff of golden-white fur.

Puppy yaps fill the house, echoing off the walls. Dean yells, his cries being lapped out of his mouth by the mass of fluff. "Sa-! What the h-ell?!"

"It's a dog, Dean."

"I realise that- EW!" The puppy barks, tail wagging gleefully as Dean spits slobber from his mouth. " _Get it off!_ "

"Bones! Here!" Sam calls and the puppy bounds into his arms, wriggling energetically. "He's only 10 weeks old. Golden retriever puppy."

Dean hoists himself up, still wiping globs of slobber away. "Right... Why have we got a dog?"

"Well..." Sam pets the puppy. "You know I've always wanted a dog. So, I decided to buy myself one, for Jess and I. However, and here's where it becomes a present to you, he's special."

"How?" Dean scrunches his eyebrows together.

"My Bones here has been accepted into the Guide Dog Academy. He will begin training soon to become a certified Guide Dog. For you, Dean."

Bones yaps approvingly, still wriggling and nipping at Sam's mop of hair.

Dean is speechless.

Cas grins. "Hannah is not going to be pleased."

 

They decide to have a break before the final gift, from Sam to Jess, while Dean acquaints himself with Bones, who won't leave the man alone. Cas chuckles, holding Dean's hand and helping him throw chew toys for the canine.

"I can't believe this puff of fluff is going to be my eyes." Dean mutters.

"Cutest eyes I've ever seen."

"I bet your eyes are cute." Dean pokes Cas' cheek.

"No, Dean. Not puppy cute."

"Meh." Dean shrugs. Bones barks again, gnawing on Dean's shoe. "Oi! Get off, ya rascal!"

"What does Santa suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney?" Jess asks, peering at her Christmas cracker joke.

"What?" The boys chorus.

"Claustrophobia!"

They all groan.

"I've got one!" Sam smiles, reaching into the tree. "Jess, will you pull this with me?"

Jess, eying him warily, accepts. "I don't trust you with Christmas crackers."

"Probably just as well. Now, pull!" They tug at the cracker, Jess winning. A slip of paper slides out.

"Well, that was anticlimactic." She jokes.

"Read it, will you?" Sam can't hide his smile.

Jess rolls her eyes, reading off the paper. "What did the Moose say to the Cookie Baker?"

Cas watches Sam as he pulls a small box from his back pocket and settles down on one knee, opening it. "Will you marry me?"

Jess just stares at him, frozen. " _What_?"

Sam shifts uncertainly, "Will you-"

"Yes! Oh, my god, Sam! Yes!" Jessica's voice fades into indecipherable blubbering, tears trickling down her pretty cheeks. Cas and Dean applaud, whistling, grins wide as an ocean.

Sam, looking like the happiest man on the goddamn planet, stands and slips the ring onto her finger.

The couple kiss passionately, then hug, Sam bending down to reach her. "Merry Christmas, Jess."

She just cries softly into his shoulder.

* * *

The rest of the evening is filled with celebrations and puppy barks.

Sam and Jess leave some hours later, a little tipsy, very happy, and bound for Jess' empty apartment.

"Merry Christmas, boys!" Jess calls, waving a slender arm.

"Merry Christmas, Jess!" Cas calls back, waving. "Congratulations!"

She thanks him and slides into the car, Bones in tow.

Dean and Sam still stand in the doorway, talking. Cas turns in time to see Dean furiously wrap his arms around Sam, hugging him tight. "I'm proud of you, little bro."

Sam's voice cracks. "Yeah. Thanks, Dean."

They part ways, patting each other's arms. Sam pets Cas shoulder on his way passed, bidding him farewell.

And then they're gone.

Castiel turns to Dean. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Dean nods, voice thick. "Yeah, it's just..."

Cas kisses his cheek, taking his hand and leading him back inside, away from the cold.

There is plenty of tidying of to do, but Cas figures it can wait. Heart fluttering, he pulls Dean up the stairs. Dean sniffles a little behind him, tugging on Castiel's heartstrings.

"Shouldn't we pack up the shit downstairs?" Dean asks, almost tripping on a step.

Cas remains silent.

"Cas?"

They reach the top of the flight of stairs and make their way to Dean's room at the end of the hall. Cas' breath quickens the closer they get, heart rate accelerating.

"Cas? What are you-"

Cas tugs Dean into the room, swinging him around and shoving him up against the door, kissing him hard. Dean gasps, air being forced out of his lungs on impact. Cas runs a hand through Dean's hair, tugging it back so he can reach his mouth easier, tongue darting inside at the first opportunity.

Dean moans when Castiel presses their bodies flush together. "Cas..."

Cas pulls back, breathing hard. "I- uh..." He licks his lips, staring at Dean's breathless face, pupils dilated and heart visibly pounding against his chest. "I'm sorry. I don't know why- I'm sorry."

"No," Dean whispers, voice hoarse. "Do that again."

Cas looks at him, slightly surprised. He was sure he had scared Dean, hurt him.  
But he didn't need to be told twice.

Like a wild animal, Cas leaps upon Dean, tearing at his clothes. First, his scruffy leather jacket, then his "Christmas" flannel. Then there was his shirt.  
Castiel's fingers dance beneath the hem of the fabric, lightly brushing against Dean's skin, causing the other man to shudder. Reach up, he slides his hands under the shirt and rubs them against Dean's chest, marvelling at the smoothness of his skin. Dean groans, eyes squeezing. Castiel runs his fingers over Dean's chest, stomach, sides and back, feeling every inch of him. He hoists the top up, yanking it over Dean's head, swallowing hard.

Now he can see Dean.

He's muscular, but not crazy muscular. He has a small, adorable layer of pudge around his middle, and perky little nipples Cas falls immediately and inexplicably in love with. His hip bones protrude slightly and, much to Cas' guilty delight, his arms are massive. Strength ripples with every little flex and Cas does all he can not to lose it right there.

Dean stands awkwardly by the door, and Cas feels guilty for the time he spent admiring his form. "I need to stop making a habit of doing this when you're emotionally compromised," Cas says.

"Don't worry about it." Dean's voice is still thick from crying, his cheeks still wet with tears. Cas leans forward, kissing the little salty trails away. Kissing away Dean's pain.

He's so beautiful.

Dean finds his lips, swiping a tongue against his teeth. Cas opens his mouth, allowing Dean to slip his tongue through, joining them. His kisses are tender and compassionate and calming- but Cas doesn't want calm. His hands roam below, running over Dean's thighs, bottom, crotch, cursing the rough blue jeans. His fingers find Dean's belt and set to work unbuckling it and pulling it away, discarding it somewhere in the corner. Dean's grip in Cas' hair strengthens, kisses becoming fiery, breathy. The taller man reaches his hands beneath Cas, hoisting him up and pressing his against the wall, loose jeans slipping. Cas makes short work of the pants, tugging them down so Dean can step free, briefs pressing against Cas' now aroused cock. Dean lets out a low, spine-tingling involuntary moan, Cas pausing his exploring for a moment.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you say we try out those coffee-flavoured condoms?"

Dean laughs, head falling to Cas' shoulder. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Okay, well..." Cas' voice hitches as Dean presses a lingering kiss on his neck. "P-put me down." Dean obeys, dropping Cas and stepping back. Cas stands, legs turned to jelly, and slips out the door. "Wait here."

The sound of his steps are engulfed by his thick festive socks as he pads through the empty house down to the living room. The place still stinks of pine, roast and alcohol. Cas' eyes adjust slowly to the darkness, eyes seeking out the small blue box beside his apron. 'Ah-hah'-ing triumphantly, he picks it up and makes his way back to Dean, heart pounding.

Dean is still standing by the wall when he returns, looking rather impatient. 

"I'm back." Cas announces.

"Good." Dean growls. Cas shudders.

They have a small awkward moment of standing in the corner of Dean's darkened room, both unsure how to initiate the next step.

"How about some music?" Cas finally breaks the silence.

Dean snorts. "Right, well... Sure, why not? There's a pile by the desk."

Cas shuffles over, digging through Dean's extensive classic rock collection. One CD catches his eye.

Cas carefully pops the disk in the player and switches up the volume.

"What're you playing?" Dean frowns.

" _Dean's Christmas Mix_."

"Oh, god..." Dean groans. Cas hums along as Michael Bublé's smoky voice fills the still air.

"Nice choice." He teases.

Dean, almost tripping in the process, finds his way to Cas and kisses him hard on the lips. "Shut it, Cassie."

Cas, poking Dean's nose, wraps his arms around his neck and drags him to the large bed. "Make me."

Dean raises an eyebrow. Pushing Cas down onto the bed, Dean cards his fingers through his hair, kissing his ear, dragging his lips over his stubble, brushing his lips with Cas'. His fingers find Cas' shirt buttons and set to work undoing each one slowly, kissing each flash of chest that appears. Cas whines, impatient.

"Patience, Cas."

"Forget patience, Dean. Please just- oh god..." Dean reaches his belly button, kissing it lightly, dragging his tongue around it. "Wrong hole, Dean."

"Oh, my god, Cas..." Dean presses his forehead to Cas' stomach, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Way to kill the mood."

Cas just chuckles along with him, singing a little. Dean, recovering from his miniature laughing fit, resumes trailing his tongue across Cas' smooth, tanned skin. He drags his tongue up his stomach, chest and the dip of his neck, kissing his lips before sliding back down, nuzzling a nipple. Cas gasps as Dean latches on to one, sucking it at little, nipping lightly. His thumb and forefinger find the other, pinching it softly- not wanting to  _hurt_  Cas, but successfully causing an uncomfortable tension down below.

A tension Dean does not fail to notice. He slips his body down Cas' legs, the way Cas did the first time he elicited an orgasm from Dean. His hands running up and down Castiel's tensing legs rhythmically. Cas own hands wander to the zipper of his pants, undoing them and waiting for Dean to take over. Which he does, tugging the smooth fabric down Cas legs and off his feet before climbing between them.  
They remain like that for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, lazily melding lips, legs entwined. 

However, there is still business to attend to.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"There's, uh..." Dean coughs his shy little cough. "There's a tub of lube in the bedside table. Could you...?"  
"Oh, of course." Cas reaches a hand over, feeling for the drawer. His eyes, still unadjusted to the dark, eventually find the small container, extracting it and dropping it next to the condoms beside them on the bed.

Dean sits, their erections pressed uncomfortably against each other. "Sit forward." He instructs.

Cas does as he's told, sitting up and following Dean to where he sinks over the end of the bed. Cas' legs dangle over, ass on the very edge.

Slowly, Dean's quivering fingers find the band of his boxers, dancing them beneath the plastic restriction. Cas feels a tingling nervousness fizzing in the pit of his stomach, not unlike the bubbles of freshly poured champagne. Dean turns his head up, he'd be looking right at Cas if he could see.

Cas, understanding, nods his head. "Go ahead."

And Dean pulls them down, pooling the undergarments at Cas' ankles. Castiel's length springs free, heated skin sensitive to the cold air. He's silently grateful that Dean can't see, as he's not sure he could handle Dean's eyes trained on his privates. However, a furious blush creeps over his already warmed cheeks, anyway.

Dean's breath is shallow, blowing gently across Cas shaft, causing him to squirm. "Dean..."

His hands wander up Cas' thighs, sliding closer and closer, eyes closed. His hands find his cock, exposed and hard, ready for him. Dean wraps one hand along his length, grip light, as if he's afraid to break him. Cas curls his toes, not used to having something holding him the way Dean is, his hands splaying over the fuzzy covers of Dean's bed. Slowly, cautiously, Dean begins to pump his fist across the smooth, fragile skin of Castiel's cock.

"Jesus," He breathes. "You're bigger than... I thought..." His thumb slides over the sensitive slit at the top, pressing it gingerly. Cas sucks air through gritted teeth, hands latching onto Dean's shoulders. "Good?"

Cas nods, swallowing with a little difficulty. "Y-eah..."

Dean repeats the gesture twice more. His thumb swipes away the little dribble of pre-come that leaks from Cas overly aroused cock, hand sliding back down the shaft. "Don't want to... Over do it... Before..." Dean says in-between pumps, Cas whining a little.

"Could you..." Cas shivers as Dean brings his other hand up to cup his balls, rubbing them firmly between his fingers. "Go a little fast-er?"

Dean obliges, pumping more ferociously, movements fluid and strong. Cas' fingers find Dean's hair, knitting between the silky strands. 

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asks, hand stilling.

"Mm hm."

Cas feels soft flesh press against his swollen tip, and he recognises the feel of Dean's lush lips. He whimpers, revelling in the feel of Dean's mouth against him.

Taking the hint, Dean shifts a little, hand releasing Castiel's length to grip his thigh. He mouth is still pressed to Cas' tip, his tongue now slipping out to swirl over and in the slit.

Cas cries out a little, the sensations so odd and so _good_.

Dean feels himself twitch at the sounds he's extracting from his boyfriend; the sensual moans, explicit cries. Cas' reaction gives him courage enough to slide his lips over him completely, slipping half of Castiel's cock into his mouth. His saliva builds up, sloshing over Cas, mingling with the little leakages dripping from his shaft. Dean can taste him now. He'd expected it to be gross, but it isn't really. A little salty, a little strange, but bearable- especially mixed with the aftertaste of desert. His tongue dances over the underside of Cas. He pulls away, licking down his length, right to his balls. His brain is fuzzy, unfocussed, and he doesn't think much about what he's doing, his thoughts consumed by how much he loves Cas and how amazing his little pleas sound right now.

Dean engulfs a sack into his mouth, sucking a little, releasing it and lapping at them. He nuzzles his faces into the soft, curly hair, not at all minding the fact that Castiel doesn't shave. Why would he? He's a virgin after all...

Dean suddenly realises this must be Cas first blow job.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

Cas releases a long, shaky breath. "Yes..." He hisses as Dean strokes his tongue over him, again.

Dean takes this as an invitation to continue, gliding his mouth over his cock once more, lips slipping right to the hilt. He resists a gag as Castiel's length presses down his throat, the size worse that the Popsicle sticks at the doctors. But worth it. So, so worth it.  
Cas fists his hair, a little painfully, gasping his name.

Dean pulls up an inch or two, bobbing his head and mouth up and down with a quicken, sloppy rhythm, hand resuming its pumping. 

Castiel's moans grow louder and louder, squirming, legs tensing. Dean's heart races, feeling Cas' energy build beneath him.

"Dean..." Cas moans. "Dean, please, stop."

Dean ceases his movements, pulling his mouth off Cas' cock with an audible pop. "Is everything okay?" He asks, worry constricting his voice.

Cas' chest heaves, hands clammy, sweating. His forehead is beaded and chest slick, already. "Yes, Dean... I just."  
His mouth suddenly clashes with Dean's. He's a little confused, not remembering deciding to do that. 

His tongue darts about, tasting himself in patches around Dean's mouth, picking up traces of pie between his teeth. He knew that'd taste good.  
He pulls away, sucking Dean's lower lip slightly, the flavours lingering on his lips. "I didn't want to... Without you..."

Dean nods. "Can you move?"

Cas tells him yes, just, and Dean helps him shuffle back on the bed, kissing him adoringly as they go. Cas hears the rustle of packages beside him, and the tear of plastic.

"Cas?" Dean's voice is unusually shy.

"Yes, Dean?"

"I-I gotta ask..."

"Yeah?"

Dean bites his lip. "Do you want to... Bottom, or...?"

Cas almost laughs. "I-sure. I've never been asked that before..."

"I've never asked it." Dean admits, crossing his legs, boxers still concealing his bulging erection. "I want to make sure... If we do this, Cas, I want to make sure you're comfortable."

Cas feels tears prickle his eyes, which is weird, but he's so touched by Dean's words. He's genuinely concerned for Castiel.

The music washes over them for a moment, a slow, melodic song. Dean eventually moves, kneeling over Cas.

"Will you help me with these?" He nods down at his boxers.

Cas is all to happy to lend a hand, gripping the edges, taking a deep breath, and pulling them down. Dean's cock tumbles out, free of it's confinement, curving up a little.

Dean's cheeks tint red and Cas gapes, knowing full well that he can admire him as much as he likes without him ever knowing. A guilty pleasure of his.

"Cas?"

Castiel absently reaches out a hand, brushing the tips of his fingers over Dean's cock. Dean, in turn, squeezes his eyes shut, breathing through his teeth. Dean's hand finds Cas' and he slips something into it. Cas glances down to find a baby blue balloon-like thing in his palm. "Do you want me to put it on you?"

Dean bites his lip, nodding his head. "I can't, exactly."

"It's no problem." Castiel assures him, gingerly taking ahold of Dean's shaft. As careful as he can, he rolls the condom over his length, blanketing it in coffee-scented plastic. Grinning slyly, Cas ducks his head down to slide his tongue over the rubber, humming to himself. "Hmm, it really does taste like coffee."

"Really?" Dean squeaks.

"Yeah, wanna taste?"

Dean snorts. "I'm not that bendy, Cas."

Cas breathes out a laugh. Tearing open another packet, he repeats his previous gestures on himself, rolling the unfamiliar implement up his hardened cock. Taking ahold of Dean's hand, he runs his fingers over the rubber, watching Dean's expression change. He then guides his head to his own cock, preparing himself for the sensation of Dean's mouth, reattached. He wheezes out a groan as Dean wraps his lips around him, tongue swirling.

"Mm, yep. They did a pretty good job." Dean mumbles around his tip. Cas unintentionally bucks his hips a little, forgetting how close he is. "Whoa, easy there, tiger." Dean press on his stomach, pushing him gently back down. 

"Dean..." Cas whines, squirming. God, he just wants Dean to take him already. Enough of the shy touches, he wants Dean, all of him, more than he's wanted anything in his life. More than even that gameboy when he was 12.

Dean get's a strange look in his face; dark, devilish and _hot_. He pushes Cas back on the bed, hovering over him, hand plastered to his cheek. "Something tells me you don't want to mess around."

"Not that way." Cas can't quite catch his breath.

"Good boy." Dean growls. It would have sounded lame if Cas wasn't so turned on. "Turn over." Cas does as he's told, twisting to lie on his stomach. He hears a weird squelch and some shuffling, he cranes his neck to see Dean, fingers dabbling in the lube tub. Dean shuffles over, positioning himself behind Cas. "Raise your ass a little, will you, angel?"

Cas hoists his hips up a little, legs spread. He feels himself open up more, allowing Dean more access. It's uncomfortable, but he know's it'll be worth it, soon. Dean run's the lubrication-free hand over his left cheek, brushing over him, finding the hole. Cas tries to calm himself, deep breathing.

"That's it, babe. Deep breathe, relax. I gotcha now." Dean hums. "You have to relax, okay?"

Cas nods. "Okay."

"I'm going to add a finger, alright? It's gonna feel a bit weird, but it'll be so worth it, angel. I'll make it so worth it."

Dean's dirty talk is strange, but comforting and on-turning at the same time. Cas says it's okay, and waits.

He feels the coolness first, before anything. The wetness of the lubricant, and then there's the intrusion. He releases a little sound from the back of his throat, biting his lip. Dean stills his hand, waiting for Cas' walls to relax around him, whispering praises. When Cas allows himself to relax, Dean pumps his finger, revolving it around a little. The squelch of the lube sounds a little gross, but Cas zones it out, focussing in the sensation, and breathing, and Dean.

Then there's another finger. He knows because he feels the stretch. He whimpers, hands squeezing the pillow, Dean waits. Slowly, he pumps. It hurts a little, not bad, just slightly uncomfortable- but Cas understands that he can't take Dean's cock whilst tight as he is.

"God, you're so tight." Dean growls. "Such a tight little virgin ass. You ain't ever been taken, have you, angel?" Cas whimpers. "I can't wait to be the one to take you. Such and honour, angel. So beautiful." He thrusts his fingers harder, scissoring them slightly inside of Cas, stretching the knots of muscle.

Castiel moans loudly, panting slightly, glad there's no one else home, for he surely couldn't keep quiet with Dean behaving the way he is.

Dean readies a third finger, running his free hand over Cas back. "Can you take a third?"

"Yes." Cas whimpers tensely.

Dean pulls out for a moment, applying more lube. The third finger borders on too much. Cas tenses his arms, screwing up his face. Dean pumps, motions getting more fluid the more Cas relaxes, stretches. Castiel, in turn, begins to rock back into his digits, eliciting a low moan from Dean.  "So eager, babe." Dean parts his fingers, crooking them, twisting, pumping harder. Cas feels as though he can't stretch anymore.

"Dean... Dean..." He chants. Dean stills, breathing hard, and extracts his hand.

"You ready, babe?"

Cas takes a deep breath. He's about to answer when he hears the song change. "Dean..."

"Yeah?" Dean sounds a little concerned, dropping his husky, sexy talk.

"Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"The song..." Cas trails off, cocking an ear. "Unchained Melody."

Dean laughs, light and happy. "Son of a bitch, it is, too." He mumbles a line. "Our song."

"It should be our song." Cas nods.

"We can make our song." Dean leans over him, whispering in his ear. "Now, if you want, Castiel..."

Cas lets his eyes flutter shut. The words slip out, unadulterated and pure. "Kiss me. Take me."

Four words is all Dean needs. His lips find Cas', kissing him sensually, hand roaming back, guiding his cock.

Cas has one moment to catch his breath, the song's word washing over him like waves on the shore, before Dean presses into him.

"I love you." Dean murmurs into his mouth, filling him slowly, inch by inch, to the hilt.

They stay like that for a moment. Cas pressed to the bed by Dean's weight, Dean on top of him, legs draped over the sides of his ass, chest to his back, head nuzzling into his shoulder. Their hands are stretched in a bet T beside Cas' head, fingers entwined. They are united. They are one.

Cas had been raised to believe that to have sexual intercourse with someone is to give them a piece of his soul. He wouldn't rather give his soul to anyone but Dean.

After a moment, Dean presses up, pulling out and rocking back in. Out and in. One fluid, harden motion. Cas gasps each time, Dean filling him up, edging closer to that sweet spot.

"D-ean..." He moans, brokenly. "God, Dean..."

"I thought you folk didn't believe in sex before marriage." Dean rocks into him, a little harder, balls swinging forward to smack against him. Cas quivers, air pushed out of him.

"Well, I was raised in a household that didn't 'approve' of homosexuality, as well- look how that wor- oh god..." Dean shifts, pressing into him from a different angle, hitting something inside him that sets an overpowering fire of pleasure alight, burning up inside of him. "W-worked out for... Me... Dean, I- wait." Dean halts, half in- half out.

"Are you okay, angel?" His voice is husky, deep.

"I- I want to turn around. I want to see you." Cas feels stupid for asking, but Dean has no problem.

"Of course, beautiful." He pulls out and waits for Cas to roll over.

Cas sees how wrecked he is, now. Sweat pours from his hair, shoulder, down his chest. His lips hang open, kissed red, hands trembling slightly. Cas shuffles down, raising his legs and bending his back. Dean feels around, positioning himself.

"Okay, angel?"

"Yes."

_To the sea, to the sea_...

Dean grabs his legs, throwing them over his shoulders, dragging Cas by the hips towards him. He aligns himself, adding another handful of lube to his coated cock and thrusts in. 

Seeing Dean, seeing every part of him move, it does something to Cas. His cock twitches where it lays, curled up against his stomach. He's glad he's gloved, otherwise he's sure he'd make a mess everywhere when- 

"Dean!" He gasps. _That spot. That place, right there_. That was even better than the one before.

"Have I found your sweet spot, baby?" Dean purrs. Cas swallows hard. _Another one of those and he's a goner_. "Lets see if it's as sweet as... You..."

Cas can feel Dean tense within him, building up. He must be close, too. 

He reaches a hand up, pushing up from his elbow, he kisses Dean hard as he thrusts into Cas again, hitting that sweet spot one last time. Cas is forced to release his lips as he cries out, Dean's name on the tip of his tongue. " _Dean!_ "   
His head tosses back, legs tensing. His hands flail around, running over the bed, himself, and every inch of Dean.

As the tsunami of pleasure begins to die, so does his voice. Fading to nothing. He's somehow aware of Dean, furiously pounding into him, hips bucking wildly.

Dean moans more than yells, pushing praises out through his teeth. "That's a good boy. That's it, angel. Say my name, baby- god, that feels good! Shit, shit that... Oh, my god I love you. Oh, my god, you're beautiful, Cas. Angel..." He babbles, sinking into Cas' arms. He lets out one final, low moan, convulsing slightly as pleasure pulses through his veins. Dean melts into him.

Cas holds him, drowsiness creeping over him, fogging his mind. Dean barely musters the energy to pull out of him, discarding his condom into the bin beside the bed. His shaking hands pulls Cas' off, too, doing the same to it and leaning down to kiss his softening cock lovingly.

Cas is already passing into dreamland as Dean crawls up the bed beside him, sinking onto his stomach. Cas uses his last bit of strength to roll over, snuggling into Dean and kissing his neck as the song ends.

"Y'know, Christmas might not be so bad, actually." Dean mumbles drowsily.

Castiel smiles, "Merry Christmas, Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!  
> <3


	8. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is living a dream, and he hopes never to be drawn from it...

Castiel awakes to the comforting contact of warm skin on warm skin; Dean's contented breathing blowing gently in his face, his eyelids closed lazily and lips parted, still pink and plush.

Not wanting to wake him, he slips noiselessly out of the bed, feet brushing along the floor on the hunt for slippers. Tracking down a pair of Dean's, he makes his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee, slipping a dressing gown over his bare body as he goes.

The machine makes more noise than he'd like, whirring like crazy in the peaceful quiet. Cas leans on the counter as he waits for the coffees to brew, staring at the lounge. There're still dishes scattered around and a tremendous amount of wrapping paper littered everywhere.

"Argh..." He groans to himself, knowing that he'll probably have to pick it all up himself. He doesn't _really_ mind, it's just so early and he's feeling _so_ lazy...

"Big mess?" 

Castiel jumps. "Oh, Dean, it's you."

"Nah," Dean strokes a hand along the wall, inching closer. "It's Santa, coming to retrieve his missing elf."

"I'm not an elf, Dean." Cas sighs.

"You're the same height as one."

Castiel pouts, punching Dean's outstretched arm. "I'm not that small, Dean!"

"Really?"

"Yes! You just can't tell because-" He catches himself. "Want any coffee?"

Dean gives him a look. A strange, peculiar look. "Sure."

Cas fetches two mugs, finishing the coffees and leading Dean to the couch, placing a cup carefully in his outstretched hands.

Dean's face still holds that weird expression, he looks a little pained, to be honest.

"Something on your mind?" Castiel asks, sitting beside him.

"Are you okay?" Dean blinks, changing the subject abruptly. Cas hadn't noticed his eyes were open until now, or glasses-less.

"Uhm, yeah. Why?" Castiel tilts his head letting the topic switch slide.

"Well, after last night, I just..." Dean trails off, pursing his lips. He gingerly sips his coffee, a little buzz of approval vibrating in his throat. "Are you okay?"

Cas pauses. "I'm great, Dean. I'm amazing, actually."

Dean ducks his head sheepishly, fingers fluttering over the side of his cup. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't... Regret anything."

"No!" Cas waves his hand. "I mean, my butt's is a bit sore, but I don't regret a thing. Not a thing, Dean."

Dean smiles, eyes sparkling through the fog. "I love you."

Castiel stares back at him, adoration softening his features. "I love you, too." He says, sincerely. _I love you so, so much_.

"Wanna go out somewhere today?" Dean tips his head, unknowingly mimicking Castiel's trademark gesture.

Cas smirks. "Go somewhere?"

"Yeah." Dean quirks his lips. "Somewhere."

"Sure." Cas shrugs. "Where?"

"Somewhere."

 

Dean heads upstairs to get changed after that, leaving Cas to sit dazedly on the couch, staring at the crap he still need to tidy up.

"Urgh." He moans, waving a hand at the mess and heading upstairs to join Dean.

He finds his lover buried in his closet.

"Well, well, still in the closet, Dean?"

Dean jumps, frowning. "Shut up, Cas. Help me pick out a shirt."

"Well, for one thing," Castiel tugs an item of clothing from Dean's fist. "This isn't even a shirt."

"What?" Dean looks bemused.

Cas giggles. "It's a pair of shorts."

Dean pauses. "Oh."

"Mm hm, try this one." Cas holds up a soft, plain t-shirt with the Chevrolet symbol on the right breast pocket. The shirt is a black, short-sleeved polo and, from the looks of it, a deliciously slim fit.

"I don't recognise it..." Dean rubs his thumb and forefinger on the hem of the sleeve.

"No? Too bad, put it on."

"Okay, okay, demanding much." Dean pokes his tongue out in Cas direction, undoing the belt of his dressing-gown. Cas bites his lips as the gown drops to the floor, revealing Dean's body- bare aside from the pair of boxers he must've tugged on before coming downstairs. In the light he's even more beautiful. His freckles slash across his back and shoulders, specking up his chest. And, oh god, those _arms_.

Cas swallows hard and turns away, rummaging through the closet for some pants.  
"Here." He says, handing a pair to Dean once he's slipped the shirt on. A plain pair of dark jeans, but they cling to all the right places as Dean pulls them on, his butt looking mighty fine to Castiel. He enjoys dressing his boyfriend. He's not even too ashamed to admit to the selfish indulgence. Dean is like his own personal Ken doll, and twice as handsome...

"Do I look okay?" Dean stretches his arms out, spinning.

"You look great." Cas applauds. "C'mere and let me put some socks on you."

"Is that slang you're using?"

"Shh, Dean, sit still." 

Dean obeys, sitting on the edge of the bed and pointing a foot out ballet style so Cas can roll socks on his feet, tickling his toes.  
Dean giggles like a child when Cas begins to do 'This Little Piggy' on him, pulling his foot away. "Sto-op"

Cas grins, standing up. "I have to get changed now, okay?"

"Yep." Dean crosses his legs.

Cas shuffles to Dean's dresser stood inside his closet. "Can I borrow something?"

"Sure." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

Castiel rolls his eyes and rifles through Dean's assortment of shirts and pants. His hands brush against a deep blue button-down shirt with sleeves fixed in a rolled up position, and white tee. He pulls them out along with a pair of dark jeans, and dresses himself.

"Whatcha wearing?" Dean asks from his place on the bed.

"Clothes."

"Describe 'em."

Cas doesn't hide his smile. "Well, a plain white shirt with a blue button-down. The button-down has the sleeves rolled up. It kinda matches my eyes-"

"You have blue eyes?" Dean cuts in, curious.

"Uhm, yeah. Haven't I ever said that?"

"I don't think so." Dean frowns. "Are they light blue or dark blue?"

"Kinda both. But more dark... Unless in bright light."

Dean beams. "They sound beautiful. Like the ocean."

Cas shrugs. "They're eyes."

"What else are ya wearin'?"

"Black jeans, they're meant to be tight, I think, but they're a bit big. Really long- I might have to roll the legs up a little. May borrow your shoes?"

"Sure." Dean wiggles his own foot. "What _shall_ _I_ wear?"

Cas pulls out some shiny black boots. "These." He wanders over to Dean and helps him slip them on. "And these." He passes him the dark aviators that were sitting on the bedside table.

Dean puts them on, feeling the frame. "Very Cruise-ish."

"Very." Cas laughs. "They're nicer than your other ones. You'll need a coat, It's still snowing like crazy out there."

Dean points near the corner of the room. "There're coats on the chair."

Castiel picks up a heavy leather jacket for Dean, navigating his way back to the bed and handing it to him. "I have my trench coat, so I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Castiel nods in affirmation.

"Ready to go, then?" Dean stands up, stretching.

"Yeah, where're the keys?"

"On the hook downstairs."

Cas leads him down, trying not to gawk at the way the shirt clings to Dean, coat not yet settled on his broad shoulders.  
He finds his trench coat on the couch and pulls it on, jangling the keys in his hand. "Where to, Winchester?"

Dean grins. "Wherever you like, Novak."

Castiel leads them through the heavy snowfall, flakes dancing through to air to land on the tip of Dean's acute nose. Castiel watches with an adoration as Dean reaches a finger up to brush the snowflake away, crinkling his nose like a kitten. _He's adorable_ , Cas thinks.

"Damn snowflakes." Dean growls.

"I like them." Cas catches one in his palm, blowing it across his fingers with pursed lips, watching it sail into the air. "It's incredible to think that there as so many, billions and billions, and, yet, not one is the same."

"If you say the whole 'people are like snowflakes thing', I think I'll be sick." Dean huffs.

"I wasn't going to, but now you mention it..." Cas nudges Dean, pecking his cheek. "You're a pretty special snowflake, Dean."

"Shuddup, Cas." Dean mumbles gruffly, but a telling blush creeps into his cheeks.

"You are special, though. My special snowflake."

"Aw, let it go, Cassie."

Cas snorts unattractively. "Whatever you say, Elsa."

Dean frowns. "Wha-"

" _Let it gooo, let it gooo..._ " Cas begins to sing, releasing Dean's arm to dance about, continuing the song. " _My power flurries through the air into the ground. My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around_." He does a failed pirouette. " _And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast_." He taps Dean's head, earning a swat of the arms. " _I'm never going back, the past is in the paaaaast!_ "

"Cas," Dean sounds one hundred percent done. "Will you just get us to the car? I'm freezing my ass off..."

"No, Dean!" He's just being a little shit on purpose, now. " _Here I stand in the light of daaaaay!_ "

"It's not even that light, Cas. I can't even see blurs in this storm!"

" _Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyway!_ "

Dean crosses his arms, pouting with his lower lip protruding significantly, causing his chin to crinkle. "Cas! I'm c-cold!"

Castiel, having finished his Disney ballad, comes to stand beside him again, wrapping his arms around Dean. "Haven't you ever seen Frozen?"

"What the hell even is that? A section in the supermarket..."

"It's a kids movie. Anna made me watch it once, because the character has a similar name to her. It was pretty alright. You remind me a bit of Elsa, actually."

Dean raises an eyebrow, pink nostrils flaring with a puff of air somewhat resembling a 'nose-laugh'. "Who and how?"

"She's one of the main characters- the queen-"

"You calling me a queen, Cas?"

" _Well_..." Cas smirks. Dean sobers him with a glare. "Anyway, she sacrifices a lot for her sister, Anna. She keeps her powers a secret to protect her. she's deemed a monster when they're discovered and, when they- Anna and Elsa together- figure out how to undo her curse, it winds up being true love. If hurt and anger produces the ice, love can thaw it."

Dean pauses, staring at him strangely. "That... Sounds nothing like me." He pulls his walking stick out, rolling it along the ground towards the car, narrowly dodging a tree decoration. "I'm no goddamn Disney princess."

Castiel stares at his back, eyes sparkling for a moment, before shuffling after him, his feet leaving tracks in the snow like the wheels of a steam train.

* * *

"Did you really bring me to HB?" Dean snorts, a corner of his full lips twitching up.

"Hey, I've never actually been here as a customer!" Cas shrugs, barely containing his smile. "Besides, I get free drinks. And it's hot chocolate weather."

Dean can't say no to a nice, warm mug of chocolaty goodness. Cas leads them to their favourite table by the window, where Cas can watch the snow swirl and Dean can hear the traffic buzz by.

"Hey, Angel." Ruby trots up to them, notebook in hand. "Nice to see you here."

Castiel smiles at her. "How are you, Gem?"

"Oh, y'know..." She shrugs her shoulders. "College's an ass, but not too hard. I've landed myself extra shifts here, so we'll be a team again."

"That's great!" Cas nods, mouth still crooked up. "I've missed working with you."

"Yeah..." Ruby's eyes wander to Dean, giving him a funny look.

"Oh, uhm..." Castiel shifts awkwardly. "Ruby, this is-"

"Dean." Ruby says, flatly, eyes not blinking. 

Dean is visibly uncomfortable. "Er... Sorry, who are you?" He raises a hand to tap his lens. "I-uh... I can't..."

"Ruby Doe." Ruby's words are dry, bitter. Castiel senses an uncomfortable mood change in the air. "I dated Sam for a bit a while back, remember? I'm the _'bitch'_."

Dean's eyes suddenly go wide behind the lens of his glasses. "O-oh... Oh, my god, Ruby!" Dean stutters.

Ruby's assumes a mask of acrimony, turning her back to Dean. "What do you want to order, Castiel?" She snaps.

"Uhm," Castiel gives a small cough. "One- one hot chocolate and one coffee, black."

She nods curtly and briskly walks away.

Castiel stares at her back as she leaves, waiting unil she's out of earshot before rounding on Dean. "What an earth was that about?"

Dean bites his lip. "Ruby and Sam had a... bumpy relationship a while back. You might say I was the one to end it."

"Is that all?"

Dean fixes him with a funny look. "Well, if that wasn't bad enough, I also might've maybe banged her sister..."

Cas rolls his eyes. " _Dean_."

"What can I say? Lilith was hot! True, she went after Sam first, but... I dunno, she must have a kink for blind guys. Ruby wasn't too impressed, especially after I had a fight with their daddy. Son of a bitch deserved it, he had a weird thing for Sam. Messed up family, if you ask me."

"You're impossible." Castiel sits back, puffing air out his lips.

Ruby returns with their drinks, dropping them on the table, sloshing hot chocolate on Dean.

"Ah!" He cries, jumping up, hands brushing at the boiling beverage now trickling down his trousers.

"Sorry." Ruby replies bluntly, shoving some napkins his way and stalking off.

"Geez," Dean soaks up the drink with the pile of paper towels. "She hasn't changed a bit."

Castiel smirks into his coffee, the drink sizzling on his tongue and welcomingly warm. Dean sits back down and feels for his mug, quietly thanking Cas when he pushes the handle into his hand. Dean seems a little on edge, but relaxes as the moments trickle by. The traffic outside blurs yellow and red, horns tooting softly in the distance. Wheels slosh against the snow as the day's light fades behind thick, grey blankets of cloud, like the sky is tucking the sun into bed earlier than usual.  
Cas wishes he could do the same to Dean. His heart flutters with the thought of snuggling up beside him in bed, letting all worries slip away with tender kisses and sweet nothings whispered into warm skin.

It occurs to him, suddenly, that this might be their life. Two college drop-outs; one living off disability pensions and the other in a dead-end job at a small café. They could get married. They could fix Dean's sight. Dean could get a job as a mechanic, Cas could pursue his offer to become junior pastor at the church. They could have kids- a boy, maybe two, or a girl. They could lay up in bed on cold nights and tell silly stories in odd voices and tickle their children until they giggle and kiss until they have no breath.

They could. They really could...

"Cas?"

"Mm?" Cas turns his head away from the foggy window.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Castiel shakes his head. "Nothing."

Dean sparkles, the whisper of a smile on his lips. "Hey," he whispers. "I love you."

"I Dean you, too."  
Dean let's out a bark of laughter, chest bouncing as he throws his head back. "God, Cas. Way to kill the mood."

"I wasn't meaning to."

Dean sniffs a little, still laughing brokenly. "I know."

"Have you finished?"

"Yeah." Dean passes him his mug and Cas takes the dishes to the kitchen, so used to washing up here.

Nora pokes him in the side, hitting the pressure point and making his convulse. "Uh-uh, Novak. It's not your day." 

Cas grins and steps back as she ushers him out of the kitchen, tapping his bottom lightly with the end of the tea towel she's holding. He's chased back to his table with Dean by Nora's mother-like glare. 

"Come on, Dean. Let's go for a walk."

Dean doesn't object, standing up and taking Castiel's arm. Cas, in turn, winks at Nora as they exit the coffee store into the frosty air.

Cas tightens his coat around his with his free hand, burying his face in it. Dean pops the hood of his own coat, face consumed by fuzzy, fake animal fur. They cross the road, jogging a little to avoid traffic, and enter the park across the road from the shop.

The air is filled with bright Christmas songs, the speakers set around the park having not been switched off yet. The snowflakes seem to be choreographed with the music, flitting around them in dainty swirls. The atmosphere is mundane and magical.

Cas takes Dean's hand, slotting their frozen fingers together. "Walk in a winter wonderland with me?"

"How could I decline." Dean nods, faking class, and allows Cas to tow his through the park.

The trees bow their snow-laden branches, skeletal fingers stretched into the night. A pattern of decorated shrubs dot the path, twinkling merrily. Cas lets out a jubilant cry, feeling overwhelmingly happy. Dean chuckles, shaking his head at him.

Castiel pulls him off the path and onto the field consumed with snow. Dean trips and topples to the ground, his foot catching on a stray branch. Cas sniggers and plops down beside him, spreading his arms out. With wide, sweeping motions, he crafts an angel-like image into the ground, feet moving in synchronisation.

Dean's voice floats into his mind, an echo of the night before. _Angel_ he'd called him. His angel.

"Are you making a snow angel, Cas?" Dean snorts.

"Maybe."

"You don't need frosty wings to be an angel, y'know."

"I know." Cas breathes. _Will he say it_?

"You're always an angel to me, Cas. My angel."

_Yes. He said it_.

Castiel sighs contently, a warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling inside him. "I love you."

Dean rolls over, lips brushing over first his eyebrows, then nose, then (finally) his lips. He hugs them gently between his own, hand cupping Cas' cheek. "I Dean you, too, angel."

* * *

It's hotter that night. A little more needy and a little less slow. Just as blissful, however.

Cas throws his head back, mouth hanging agape. A strangled groan escapes him and he feels Dean tense up. "God, angel..."  
Dean makes extra sure to call him angel. To whisper it over and over, kissing the name into his skin, filling his mouth with it. The name rings in Castiel's ears.  
_Angel, angel, angel_.

He loves it when Dean calls him that. He doesn't know why, he just does. It's different from when other people call him that. Different from the pet names he's adopted at work, or among family.

Dean pulls the blankets tight around them once they are done, laying breathless and spent, side by side. "I love you, angel."

"I Dean you." Cas exhales, eyelids drooping. Dean hugs him tight around the middle, drawing him in closer. Castiel lets his eyes drop closed, welcoming the dreams that he finds are no different from waking life.

He is living a dream, and he hopes never to be drawn from it.


	9. Stag Night, Drag Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes black...

"Shit."

"Dean, breathe. Just breathe."

Dean sits, shuddering like a leaf in the wind, near strapped to the chair. "Why do these fucking things even exist?"

Castiel, ignoring Dean's moans, works at the stinger stuck tight in Dean's foot. The little bugger simply refuses to relent, and Dean's foot is saturated in vinegar, the pungent smell stinking out the room. Castiel's fingers nimbly work at the tiny stinger with the tweezers, picking and prodding. Finally, with a triumphant cheer, Cas extracts the hooked weapon from Dean's foot.

"Got it!"

"Praise the Lord!" Dean groans, clutching his foot.

"It was just a bee, Dean."

"Yeah, well, you try not being able to see the little sons of bitches when they're right under your goddamn foot." Dean growls.

"You're such a princess." Cas pecks Dean's cheek, taking the vinegar bottle, tissues and tweezers back to the little kitchenette in the corner of the room.

A light tap on the door draws a heavy sigh from Dean. "Come in."

Sam ducks his head through the open space, grinning. "Is it out?"

"Yep."

"Finally! With the noise you were making, we almost had to blast the music full-vol."

Dean rolls his eyes and stands up, wincing at the little throbbing pain in his foot. He runs his stick along the ground, wandering towards where he heard Sam's voice.

"I'm sorry, man." He slaps his little brother's back. "I'll be back down with Cas in a minute."

"I know, Dean." Sam ensures his voice is soft, seeing as Dean can't read his emotions any other way. "Make sure you get down quick, too. We're bringing out the karaoke in a minute and you guys cannot miss that!"

Dean laughs heartily and shoves Sam through the door. "Get back to your damn party you moose."

Sam let's his smile fall just a little- the most minuscule amount- because it hits him, as most things have, lately, that he's going to miss this. He's going to miss Dean and his teasing. Their playful banter. He's going to miss Dean tripping down the hallways, and getting angry at the marks his brother leaves on the floor with his stick. He's going to miss Dean's cooking, and his singing in the shower, and his smile. He's going to miss the pranks, and the Impala, and the late night bar dates where they chill out and dine on the crappiest delicacies around. He's gong to miss his big brother so, so much.

He doesn't say anything more, just wanders back downstairs, the club lights blinding.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Castiel's voice floats to him from behind.

Dean turns from his place leaning nonchalantly on the door frame. "Yep. I'm just peachy."

Cas glances over his features for a moment. Dean's lip twitched. It did.   
He's lying.

Of course he isn't alright. It's his little brother's Stag Party. Sam's going away, moving out, stepping through another door of life, and the door he shares with Dean is closing. 

Castiel slinks his arms around Dean's middle, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

"I know." Dean's voice sounds just the teeniest bit broken.

"However, I'm not sure I forgive you."

Dean shifts, a deep crease in his brow. "For what?"

"Being a murderer."

"What?!"

"Of bees." Castiel pulls a false sad face. "Bees are so precious, Dean. And you squashed one."

Dean throws his hands up, voice exasperated, but he's not really mad. "Oh my god, Cas! The little bastard got me back, so win-win, lose-lose."

Castiel laughs. "Well, I might forgive you- on one condition." He holds up a slender finger.

"Hmm?"

"You try some of my homemade honey."

Dean rolls his eyes and pokes Cas in the stomach, hiding a smile. "Fine, fine. I'll try your stupid honey."

Castiel grins. He'd bought himself a DIY bee ranch from an old man he met whilst on a coffee run for work. The aged farmer, Cain, had several hives he no longer needed. Being the supplier of Heavenly Brew's coffee, and therefore seeing Castiel quite regularly, meant that he was happy to sell the hives to Cas, who could come up whenever and tend to his very own bees. Cas loves bees. He adores them.

However, Dean does not. And, as proven tonight, apparently the bees do not possess any love for Dean, also. Despite not being one of Castiel's own bees, he still can not help but feel somewhat responsible for Dean's current discomfort, and the death of the fuzzy little critter.

"Great. Now, shall we head back downstairs?" Downstairs being the dance floor of the local nightclub.

Dean inclines his head and Cas aids him back down to the party.

 

"'Bout time!" Sam welcomes them with open arms.

"Sorry, Dean's foot was still hurting."

Sam nods. "Well, I sure hope it doesn't affect his singing voice."

Castiel squints his eyes, inclining his head. "Why?"

Two microphones are shoved at him and hands usher them to the centre of the dance floor, standing in front of a large, flatscreen television. Castiel feels his heart sink.

_Oh no_ , he thinks.

"You guys," Sam's grin is pure mischief. "Are having a song contest."

"What?!" Dean nearly drops the microphone Castiel had handed to him. "You were serious?!"

"Yep. You can't back out of it, either. I've got all the songs picked out. And it's my party- you have to do what I say."

"Sam!" Dean and Cas moan simultaneously.

"The winner receives eternal glory," Sam continues, eyes glinting. "The loser... Has to wear the Outfit of Shame for the rest of the night." He smiles smugly and points a finger at the DJ. "Let the Battle of the Ballads begin!"

The crowd cheers and Castiel stumbles on the spot. "I'm- I'm not ready!" He cries. Music floods through the speakers, drowning out his pleas.

Words appear on the screen and Castiel tries his hardest to read them before the little line appears below the melodic sentences, indicating when to sing.

"Carry on my wayward son!" Dean wails beside him.

_How does he even know the words_? Cas glares. Obviously Dean is familiar with the song, giving him an unfair advantage.  
He loves his boyfriend, he does, but there is no way in Hell he's allowing himself to wear the Outfit of Shame- whatever it may be.

"There'll be peace when you are done!" He sings back, shyly, quietly.

"Lay your weary head to rest." Dean tilts his head onto his palm, a makeshift pillow.

"Don't you cry no more." Castiel doesn't move, too afraid he'll embarrass himself.

"You've got to get into it, Castiel!" Sam calls through cupped hands. "You're losing, man! Give us a show!"

The tune changes and Castiel attempts to up the vibe. "Risin' up!" He shoots his hand to the sky. "Back on the street." He points to the door.

"Did my time, took my chances!" Dean taps his wrist and rubs his fingers together.

"Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet!" Cas' voice grows in volume, confidence pooling into his chest, buzzing through him.

"Just a man and his will to survive!" Dean plays air guitar in his leg, bobbing his head like a moron. An adorable moron.

A female's voice floods the room as the guitars fade and Castiel switches his stance quickly, assuming a sexy, ass-out, hip-popped posture. "My loneliness is killing me." He raises his voice to as soprano as he can get it.

Dean turns to him, lips puckered, hair flicking. His voice is squeaky and strained. "I must admit, I still believe." Cas swears his balls nearly explode when he attempts to hit an even higher, "Still believe!"

"When I'm not with you, I lose my mind!" Castiel twists a finger to his head, running his hands through his hair and around his neck, rocking his hips.

"Give me a sign!" Dean runs his hand under Castiel's jaw, nearly missing.

Together, punching the air in time to the lyrics, facing each other. "Hit. Me. Baby. One. More. Time!"

The melody flows into another familiar beat. The boys freestyle to a Timberlake classic, hips popping and arms bringing out the horrendous 'sprinklers' and 'running men'.

"I’m bringing sexy back!" Cas thrusts his hips.

"Them other boys don’t know how to act!"

"I think you're special, what's behind your back?" He spins Dean around, revealing a middle finger, raised proud in Sam's direction.

"So turn around and I'll pick up the slack."

" _Take 'em to the bridge._ " The crowd choruses, even the nightclubbers unaffiliated with Sam Stag gang. 

"Dirty babe!" Dean purs, his voice turned husky.

"You see these shackles." Castiel wraps his hands around Dean's wrists like handcuffs.

Dean winks, smirking. "Baby I’m your slave!"

"I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave!" Cas' tie collides with Dean's ass.

Dean fake-swoons. "It’s just that no one makes me feel this way!"

The beat skips and Cas is thrown into a whole new song. 

"Deanie had them apple bottom jeans-"

" _Jeans_!" The crowd cries, some laughing.

"Boots with the fur!" Dean counters.

" _With the fur_!"

"The whole club was looking' at yer!"

"Me hit the floor!" Dean drops low, the crowds going nuts.

" _Hit the floor_!"

"Next thing you know-"

"Deanie got low, low, low, low!" Dean, having popped back up, twists his way back down again, slapping his thighs like a stripper before shooting back to standing and winking at Cas.

The funky beat drops and the boys exchange a confused frown until-

"I'm lying alone, with my head on the phone, thinking of you 'til it hurts..." Dean's eyes drift closed, both hands holding the microphone to his plush lips.

Castiel activates heart-throb mode, trying his best to be as sappy as possible. He is ever so glad that Dean has played this song for him before, or he'd be rocking the Outfit of Shame for sure. "I know you hurt too, but what else can we do? Tormented and torn apart."

"I wish I could carry your smile in my heart," Dean peels his lips back, revealing his perfect, white teeth. "For when life seems so low."

"It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring, when today doesn't really know," Cas shakes his head. "Doesn't really know..."

Dean's voice booms, singing out full-volume, his hands grasping the air dramatically. "I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you!"

"I know you were right, believing for so long! I'm all out of love, what am I without you?"

"I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong!" Dean's voice cracks with laughter, his eyes crinkling.

The melody changes one final time and Cas freezes. The boys stand, mouths falling agape, but no words coming out. The tune fills their ears, washes over them, and Castiel knows- as well as Dean- that Sam chose this song on purpose.

Finally, Castiel brings the microphone to his mouth, stuttering at first, voice a few octaves too low. "Whoa, my love... My darling... I've hungered for your touch... A long, lonely time..."

"And time goes by so slowly... And time can do soo much... Are you still mine?" Castiel splutters, Dean's voice hitting the note perfectly. This whole time, _this whole time_ , Dean Winchester could actually sing.  
Actually. Fucking. _Sing_.

While Dean stands there, basking in Castiel's glow of adoration, Cas himself struggles to raise his usual baritone voice to an acceptable pitch. "I need your love... I need your love... God speed your love to me..."

"Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea..." Dean creates wave motions. "To the open arms of the sea... Lonely rivers sigh, 'wait for me, wait for me... I'll be coming home, wait for me!'" Despite his blindness, Dean's eyes meet Castiel's and he sees something, the love and admiration and pure emotion. The eyes that hold the keys to Dean's precious soul.

"Whoa, my love... My darling... I've hungered for your touch... A long, lonely time..."

"And time goes by so slowly... And time can do so much...Are you still mine?" Their eyes never drift from each other's. Castiel stares into Dean's eyes and wills him not to look away. Something in him believes that Dean can feel their gazes connecting. Something in him can feel _them_ connecting.

"I need your love... I need your love... God speed your love to me-" And their lips touch.

The crowds erupts into applause, the sound almost non-existent to Cas' ears as his lips meld with Dean's, their arms wrapping around each other.

"Woah-woah-woah!" Sam, grinning like an idiot, waves his hands at them. "My party. Save your mushy-blushy romance stuff for later." He winks at Cas and takes Dean's microphone from him. "I have an announcement!"

Everyone gathers around, Castiel's stomach fluttering with butterflies. Did he lose?   
He probably did. Dean was an _incredible_ singer, and his performance was _way_ better.

"As you know," Sam begins. "This sing-off was for a purpose. The loser of the competition has to wear the Outfit of Shame." Everyone nods. "My team and I have consulted and we've come to an agreement."

Castiel bites his lip. _Oh no, no, no_...

"Dean, Cas, you guys both did an incredible job, but..." The pause is dragged out so long Castiel feels stretched, like fresh taffy. "Castiel, you came out on top. Mainly because Dean- you suit pink better. And you're my brother. You always lose."

Dean gasps and Castiel feels a weight roll from his shoulders. He laughs and claps a hand to a petrified Dean's shoulder. 

Dean is dragged into the bathroom by Sam, Castiel tagging along, and brought before the worlds ugliest assortment of embarrassing garments.

A gold thong- complete with tiny, hot pink bootie shorts for modesty. Bright pink knee-high boots, $-chain, and luscious girl's brunette wig (with a rather large fruit hat to complete the ensemble). Cas sniggers, stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep from completely losing himself.  
  
"What?" Dean sounds terrified, eyes wide and filled to the brim with worry.

Sam chuckles maliciously and instructs Cas to undress Dean, stating that; "He's your boyfriend, you strip 'im."

Cas tugs off Dean's shirt and undershirt, working the belt from around his hips. Dean bites his lip as Cas slips his jeans down; Sam clapping a hand over his face, reminding them both that he is, in fact, still there.

Castiel helps Dean out of his boxers, trying his hardest not to stare at his bare cock as his pulls the thong up, tucking Dean away gently.

" _What_ the _fuck_ is _that_?" Dean's face twists, his hands running along the string (now fitted snuggly in to his crack), his perky bare ass uncovered and visible to the world.

"Uhm..." Cas pulls an apologetic face. "It's a thong."

"A what?!"

"Is it comfortable?" Cas tries to keep the conversation to a respectable level as he helps Dean step into the tight little shorts.

"No, it's fucking not!" Dean's face is bright red. "And what are these?"

"Booty shorts."

"Jesus Christ." Dean seethes. Castiel zips the fake-denim shorts up, the tight material hugging at the soft pudge around his middle. The 'legs' of the pants hardly cover Dean's rare, modesty practically out the window. Cas threads the belt that accompanies the shorts through the loops, the buckle sporting a bejewelled Hello Kitty head with the words 'Sexy Gal' written in cursive.

"Almost done." Cas promises, looping the necklace around Dean's neck, with hangs down on his bare chest. Castiel feels a pang of jealousy in his stomach- not overly comfortable with anyone but himself seeing his lover bare-chested and dressed so scantily.

The wig is fitted to Dean's head, the false brown locks complementing Dean's meadow green eyes nicely, surprisingly. And then the fruit hat. Finally, the boots are tied right up Dean's calfs, the shining plastic material reflecting in the club lights dancing from underneath the door. The heels only extend Dean's already impressive height, his head the same level as Sam's, now.

Castiel cranes his neck to look up at him. "Are you okay?"

"No." Dean pouts. "What the hell am I wearing?"

Castiel explains the outfit to a distraught Dean as Sam, noticing that the coast is clear, sits in hysterics in the corner of the bathroom.

"Ready, Sexy Gal?" Sam snorts. Dean glowers at him and allows himself to be pulled, hesitantly, back to the dance floor.

 

"I sure hope there's no bees 'round 'ere. Knowing m' luck in these goddamn shorts, I'll get stung on the butt." Dean grumbles. Castiel shoos away a bunch of cackling girls, sitting Dean down at the bar to order another round of drinks. He can smell the booze in Dean's breath already, the stench overpowering everything else- but he figures it's his brother's Stag night, Dean has the right to get completely wasted. Not to mention Castiel is, regrettably, incredible curious as to what kind of drunk Dean is.

"Round o' shots for me an' him." Dean slurs at the bartender. The guy gives Dean a quick once-over, eyebrow cocking, and turns to prepare their drinks. Castiel shifts ever so slightly closer to Dean, feeling overprotective.

The man returns to their side of the bench, placing a tray of 12 shot glasses down in front of him. He stretches his arms over the smooth surface, biting his lip slightly.

"So," The bartender muses. "You come here often?" 

His words are directed towards Dean.

"No." Dean shakes his head. "It's m' brother's Sta' party."

"Oh, cool. He getting' hitched?"

"Mm hm."

The stranger shifts a little. "Are you hitched?"

Dean laughs, a loud, foreign splutter, so unlike his usual laugh. "Nah."

"Really?" The guy sounds surprised. "A guy like you? Anyone who can pull an outfit like that off the way you do shouldn't be left un-attactched!"

"He's not." Cas wheezes, but his voice is small. The bartender is a large fellow, thin-haired and bearded. He didn't seem like the kind of guy one would endeavour to piss off.

They continue to converse, Castiel's ears trained on their conversation. He begins to let it all slide, eyes drifting around the room, when he hears a surprised whimper beside him. He whips his head around to find the bartender, leant right over the counter, one hand slipped behind Dean's head so that he can't escape, kissing his boyfriend.

_That's it_.

"Hey!" Cas cries, leaping up so fast and with such force that his stool is sent crashing to the ground. A few heads turn in their direction, eager for the entertainment of a fight. "Get your hands off him!"

The stranger releases Dean's lips long enough to shoot Castiel the meanest death glare known to man. Dean gasps for air, a shocked look in his dulling eyes, his lips pink and parted.

"Sorry, did you say something?" The man places another rough, sloppy kiss on Dean's vulnerable mouth. "Didn't hear ya, short stuff."

Castiel feels his face redden, steam practically coming out his ears. "I said, _get your hands off him_." He growls, voice dropping so low he scares himself.

The man stares him right in the eyes, unflinching. "Make me."

So Castiel swings.

His knuckles collide with an almighty force against the bartenders cheekbone.

"Ye-eah!" The the bartender coos. "That's the spirit, pretty boy! Come on, take him from me! Fight for him! You gotta earn a sweet ass like that, boy!"

"Shut up!" Castiel swings again. His arm is caught midair and twisted around his back, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Cas?" Dean blinks through his drunken haze, as if oblivious to the fight until now.

"That sweet, tight ass of his." The man licks his lips, face inches from Cas'. "I'd just love to-"

Castiel brings his leg up, kicking his opponent as hard as possible between the legs. He's released and sent stumbling away, balance lost. A sharp pain erupts on his nose and Cas is forced to the ground, fingers clutching at his nostrils, warm liquid flowing free. Blood. He can taste it in his mouth.

"Gary, no!" A woman's voice shrieks from somewhere to Castiel's left before the stranger leaps upon him, throwing punches wildly at any flash of flesh he can find. Cas whimpers, throwing his hands up to defend himself, only succeeding in getting those pummelled, too. "Gary, stop! Stop!" The same voice calls.

Gary ignores her. "He's mine. Got that, sweetheart?"

"N-o." Cas croaks, blood filling his mouth.

Another strike to his jaw. Cas is dragged up by his shirt collar, his arm twisted around and Gary's massive hand applying pressure to his left shoulder.

"Give it up, son." Gary snarls.

"No, not until you leave him alo-" A loud crack breaks through the thump of the music, followed by an agonised moan. Cas' shoulder is popped forward, intense pain throbbing from his left, blinding him momentarily. "Argh!" He screams as Gary drops him to the floor and proceeds to kick the tender shoulder. "D-ean! Dean!"

Dean just sits, stunned, still as a statue. His eyes meet Castiel's, but there's nothing there. Nothing. Surely he can hear, surely he knows what's happening. He can't see, but surely... Surely...

"Dean, please!" Castiel cries, pain overruling all else. He feels hot tears spill down his cheeks, lips trembling, mouth filled with blood. Gary knocks him back to the ground, kicking at him again and again, ribs cracking under the pressure. "Dean, help!"

"Hey!" A voice booms from across the dance floor. Castiel blinks black from his vision, eyes rolling. He sees a gang of guys, headed by a giant figure, moving in his direction. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Shouts erupt from all around him, but the noises are fading, simmering down to nothing.

"Dean..." Cas whispers. 

 

Everything goes black.


	10. At Least It's Not Plaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel awakens to the most infuriating beeping...

Castiel awakens to the most infuriating beeping. It nags at him, his weary mind screaming at it to stop. The noise is relentless, and painful- coupled with the high pitched ringing in his ears. It reminds him of the insistent beeping of a microwave at HB. Lord, he hates that sound...

"For the love of thy Father..." He groans, slipping an aching arm over his eyes. "Turn that noise off."

"The beeping?" Comes a voice beside him, deep, familiar. "Sorry, Cas. Heart rate monitors only get switched off once you're detached."

"Dean?" Castiel blinks his eyes open, arm shifting from his face. His vision is engulfed in painful, bright, white light. His first instinct is to think that he's died, and has appeared in Heaven. But you do not feel pain in Heaven. And he most certainly is feeling pain.

"Hey, Cas." Warm hands cup his own.

Cas blinks, the blurry, dark smudge next to him coming into focus. "Hello, Dean."

"How are you feeling?"

_Terrible_. "Where am I?" Castiel lolls his head to the side, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings.

"The stay-over section of the local emergency centre." Dean bites his lip. "Do you... Remember what happened?"

Castiel does remember, all too well. He remembers Dean, screaming like a small child with the bee stinger in his foot. He remembers the crazy karaoke and Dean dressed in drag. He remembers Dean, his lips stolen by the stranger behind the bar. He remembers being beaten. He remembers...

"You just... sat there," Cas frowns, his brain piecing together the fragments of memory through the haze of drowsiness still fogging his mind.

Dean's face falls. "Cas, I-"

"Why did you just sit there?"

"I can explain.I just- I can-"

"Oh," Castiel shifts up, tone tight, bitter. God forbid Dean uses his eyesight as an excuse. He knew, Cas knew he knew. " _Can_ you?"

Dean's lip trembles, his eyes welling with tears behind his glasses. "I don't know," He squeaks.

Cas pauses. "What do you mean?"

Dean shrugs, running a hand along his lips, worrying the soft, pink flesh. "I was drunk. I was emotional. I wasn't thinking..."

"You let that man beat me."

Dean lets out a small sob- more of a hiccup than a cry. "I'm so sorry, Cas. I'm so, so sorry."

Cas was disappointed. He couldn't hide it, and he wasn't going to lie even if he could. He hurt, physically and emotionally. He wanted to forgive Dean. He really did.

"How long have I been out?"

"Only overnight."

Castiel breathes a sigh of relief. "And Sam?"

Dean cocks an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Is he alright?" Castiel purses his lips. "We... Sort of ruined his party."

"Oh." Dean's voice is small. "Yeah, he's okay."

"He saved me, didn't he?" Castiel presses. "Him and the others."

Dean nods, solemnly.

"What happened? After I blacked out?"

Dean takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, lips flapping together like a horse's. Castiel shifts, pressing his bed upright so he can concentrate on Dean's tale.

It goes somewhat like this:

 

Castiel, from what Dean knows, passed out when his pleas ceased, right before Sam called out from the opposite side of the bar. The Moose Gang then charged their way across the dance floor, straight for Benny and an out-of-it Cas. Gadreel, Sam's friend, and a few others went straight to Cas while Sam made a bee-line for the bartender. According to the group's vivid re-count, which was repeated to Dean, Sam "full on roundhouse-kicked that fucker in the chops! Gave him a boot in the balls and that motherfucking asshole was toast. Sam didn't get a single scratch on his pretty lil' face!"

The group left the bar after that, Sam and Dean escorting Castiel to the hospital where Dean stayed by his side overnight.

Apparently the bartender was new, only on trial at the time. According to the bar owners, they did a little digging and he's a repeat offender with cases similar to this. He's been taken in for questioning by the authorities; and fired and banned from the bar for good.

Dean almost laughed. Almost. "To be honest, Cassie, Sammy had a great time at your expense." Any hint of glee seeps from his voice, then, "I'm so sorry, Castiel."

"It is alright, Dean." Castiel replies, because he can't quite bring himself to say I forgive you.

"I don't know why I didn't say I was taken. I don't know why I let it go so far. I don't know why I didn't help you..." Cas sees tears slip down Dean's cheeks, magnifying his freckles as they go. "I'm so sorry, Cas."

"You've already said that, say it no more." Castiel shakes his head. "What happened, happened. Just leave it, Dean."

"I love you." 

Castiel shifts his bed back down, feeling weariness overrun him. "You should go home, Dean. Get some proper rest."

And with that, Castiel drifts back into sleep. No more is said.

* * *

  
"He's fine, Jess, look at him."

"How do you know? Nothing like this happened at my hen party! You boys and your damn testosterone- causing mayhem!"

"Shh, both of you! You're going to wake him up."

"Shuddup, Dean, he's out cold."

Hushed voices crowd Cas' mind, drawing him from his slumber.

"Actually, I'm more 'in hot'."

The voices pause, shuffling footsteps squeaking over the carpet- wait... Carpet?

"Hey, Cas." Dean coos gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." Castiel responds flatly. "I am no longer in the hospital?" It wasn't so much a question, he knew for a fact that he was not in the hospital. He was in his apartment, staring at his ceiling, in his bed.

"No." Jess chirps from beside Sam, arms wrapped around her fiancé's middle. "You're at home. They moved you while you were out, we hoped you wouldn't freak."

"I'm not freaking." He assures.

"You're looking pretty beat there, buddy." Sam slaps a gentle hand to his shoulder, "If anyone asks, you wrestled a bull."

"Would that really be a lie?"

The groups laughs.

"No." Sam shakes his head, grinning. "No, it wouldn't be."

Cas let's a brief smile fall on his lips. "I am sorry, Sam. About ruining your party."

Sam looks genuinely shocked. "Sorry? Cas, I should be thanking you! It's not everyday I get to punch a dick in the face. Don't worry, man. It's cool. I should be saying sorry to you, actually."

"What for?"

"Well, letting this happen. To both of you."

Cas gives Dean an uneasy glance. "What do you mean _both_ of us?"

An awkward pause falls around them. Jess biting her lip, Sam shuffling, Dean freezing- hardly breathing.

"Oh," Sam says finally, voice quiet. "So he hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?" Castiel's eyes flit to Dean.

"Maybe we should... Leave you two to talk." Jess interjects sweetly, smiling a little forcedly. Her tiny had slips into Sam's and she drags him to the door. "We'll be downstairs if you need anything."

The door swings shut behind them and the pair are engulfed in silence.

"Dean?"

"I fucking told him..." Dean runs a hand through his hair. "I told him not to mention anything. Little brothers... Swear to god..."

"Dean?"

"Shut up, Cas, I'm thinking."

"What happened?"

Dean shakes his head, eyes closed. "I told you."

"No, what really happened?"

Shaky breaths- one, two, three. Dean exhales, scratching at his ear. "So I _do_ know why I let him."

Castiel's heart hammers against his chest. "Yes?"

"He..." Dean's face blotches, red patching around his eyes and nose, spreading over his cheeks like strawberry jam. "That fucking bartender slipped something in my drink. I don't know what, Cas. I don't remember much. I just remember you screaming for me, and not being able to move. My legs wouldn't move, wouldn't cooperate. I couldn't pinpoint where you were, like usual. I just... I couldn't." Dean's throat constricts, forcing him to swallow hard, gulping for air. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whimpers.

Cas lays, momentarily stunned, letting it all sink in. He thought he'd watched them. He didn't see the bartender drug Dean. How could he have missed that? How could he have _blamed Dean_?

It wasn't Dean's fault. None of it. He was _drugged_.

"Oh, Dean." Cas' chest clenches. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry I blamed you, Dean. I-"

"No," Dean's fingers dance over the fabric of Castiel's throw rug. "No, it was my fault."

Cas shakes his head. "No, I thought- it's not, Dean. I'm so sorry I thought that of you. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was hurt." He stills his head, sighing. "There's no excuse... Please, Dean, will you forgive me?"

Calloused fingers meet a stubbled chin, and Dean's lips are pressed to Castiel's, a little to the right. "Only if you forgive me?"

"I already have."

"Well, then." Dean's mouth curves into a smile, warm on Cas' skin. "All good, right?"

"I suppose."

"All we need is for you to heal up."

Cas nods. "Is the drug out of your system?"

"Oh," Dean shrugs. "Yeah."

"Did you report the bartender?"

Dean smirks. "Figured Sam handing his ass to him was punishment enough. The others made statements, and he's been taken into custody. I don't think I need to do anything more."

Cas crinkles the side of his mouth. "What he did was illegal, Dean. It should be-"

"Forgotten." Dean takes Cas' hands. "Should be forgotten. Let's forget this. Let's get you healed up, have Sam's wedding... Let's just move on."

Castiel smiles- though without hiding his concern. "Alright. It's a good thing Sam and Jess decided to hold early parties, isn't the custom usually the night before?"

Dean laughs. "Yeah. Yeah, lucky. Still, one month..."

"Yeah..."

Dean kisses Cas' knuckles. "I better let you rest, angel. You look like shit."

"Charming as ever, Dean."

"I love you." Dean extends his stick, rolling it to the door.

"I Dean you."

He smiles. Castiel's eyes drift shut, capturing the moment, somewhat relieved that this is all over- this whole ordeal.

Perhaps they can forget about it.

Hopefully they can forget about it.

* * *

Castiel is up and walking within the week, making his way through the day with minimal pain. Dean refuses to leave his side, although his usefulness is limited.

"A little to the right." Castiel's words are followed by an almighty crash.

"Oh, oh _shit_!" Dean yelps, jumping back. "What just happened?"

Castiel sighs, containing his laughter. "You just broke my chair."

"Dammit! sorry, Cas." Dean rolls his head, stomping his foot like a tantrum-throwing 4 year old.

"It's okay."

"No," Dean swivels his head from side to side. "No, it isn't. I'm sorry, Cas. I'm trying to help, but all I do is break things."

Cas stumbles forward, taking Dean's hand. "Hey, it's okay. You're being a huge help, and I really appreciate it. I love you, okay?"

Dean nods. "I Dean you, too."

Cas presses a soft kiss into Dean's hair. "We have to go get measured today."

"Yeah, I know. Sam called by the way."

"And?"

"Jess has got her dress. He hasn't seen it." He smiles. "I bet she'll look gorgeous. Just gorgeous."

Cas smiles softly, picturing Dean's sister-in-law-to-be in a flowing white dress, capturing the rays of the sun in her golden hair, eyes shining. She was beautiful. She really was.

"I'll describe her to you," Cas pets Dean's arm, kissing his temple. "On the day."

"Will you?"

"Yes, and Sam. And everyone. I'll describe them, don't worry. And who knows, after the surgery you can see them for yourself. I'll take lots of pictures."

Dean runs his thumb over Castiel's cheek, marvelling at the smooth feel of his freshly shaved skin. Their lips brush, warm breaths mingling. "Thank-you." He whispers.

"You're welcome." Castiel wishes Dean could see how much he loves him. God, he loves him.

"Better shower." 

"Yes, you better." Cas giggles and pats Dean's ass, shooing him away. "Get lost, Stinky."

Dean pokes his tongue out at Cas and trips up the stairs to his bathroom.

* * *

"I'm just surprised they're not plaid." Dean smirks.

"And how do you know that?" Sam fixes the velvety black bow tie around Dean's neck.

"Cas told me."

"Dammit, Cas!" Sam rounds on the unsuspecting man, halfway through doing his vest buttons up. "You should've let me convince him we were all gonna go in plaid. Plaid wedding. I actually contemplated it at one point, but... Well... Jess wasn't too keen."

Castiel barks out a laugh, brushing the crinkles out of the bright blue-and-black vest before grabbing the coat handed to him by the clerk. "Terribly sorry."

"What colours are these, again?" Dean strokes a hand over the silky back of his vest.

"White shirt. Vests are black at the front, bright blue at the back. Kind of electric. The ties match the back of the vest, they're a wide fit. The jackets are plain black with matching blue flowers pinned to the right. The pants and shoes are black." Cas relays at a quickening pace, petting the parts of Dean's outfit as he speaks. Dean nods along with his words, absorbing them, painting a picture in his mind.

"The blue kinda makes your man's eyes pop." Sam chimes in, winking at Cas. "My suit's the same, but white instead of blue The tie's black, though."

"Charming." Dean beams. Cas can see he's trying to hide just how proud he is of his baby brother, but every now and again he can't help but let the cool facade slip.

"The measurements for the other two are almost complete, sir." The store manager nods his head curtly at Sam. "And might I say, what an excellent choice you have made. You look positively dashing."

Sam frowns a little, smiling weirdly. "Uh, thanks. Thank-you."

The store owner nods again and stalks off, fussing with Ezekiel's tie.

"I bet he's fun at parties." Dean snorts.

"He does seem rather pretentious." Castiel agrees, gazing after the odd man with his puffy white hair and trim suit.

"Doesn't matter." Sam thanks the assistant as she hands him a coat hanger. "We're only getting the suits from him."

"Right..." Cas sets to work undoing his coat buttons after an approving nod from the measuring lady. She jots down his size and tucks the ruler back in her apron pocket, smiling warmly.

Dean is assisted by a younger employee, looking a little put-out at the thought of needing help.

Cas tips his head in his boyfriends direction. "Don't pull that face, Dean. We can't have you wrecking the suit."

"Like I would..." Dean grumbles.

"Oh, shut up." Sam rolls his eyes. "We have to go deliver the invitations in a minute, and I refuse to file 234 letters with you grumbling next to me."

Dean pouts, but doesn't say anything, allowing the assistant to roll his own undershirt over his head, then his shirt, then his jacket.

_Layers, layers, layers_. Cas thinks. _These boys are all layers_.

Sam meets the two at the entrance of the store, clutching the bill in his hand. "Ready?"

They nod and push out into the fresh winter-turning-spring air, the sun hitting their eyes at full force. 

"God bless March weather." Sam mumbles, shading his eyes as he peers down the street. "Cas, where's the post office?"

Castiel laughs and points a little ways down the road. "Down there, I'll lead the way."

"If you will." Sam slings and arm around Dean's shoulder and steers him, in a manhandling way, after Cas.

The door to the post office tingles as they step through, nudging the little brass bell.

"Hello!" The elderly woman behind the desk calls, smiling in a friendly manner. Her curly, greying hair, cut short to hair scalp, shimmers in the sunlight from the window. A chubby finger tugs at the red specks hanging on her nose. "Castiel? My, how nice to see you, dear!" She chirps.

"Hello, Mrs. Jublee." Castiel smiles. Sam and Dean shoots him equally confused looks. "Oh, uh..." Cas coughs. "I come in here fairly regularly to collect orders for HB."

"Regularly enough to be on a first name basis." Mrs. Jublee stands, tugging the hem of her floral shirt down over her rounded stomach. "This boy here makes the best coffee, honestly. World class." She pets Cas' shoulder, making his blush. "What can I do for you?"

"We need to send these out." Sam places the stack of white envelopes on the desk. The elder woman peers down at them, smiling. "Wedding?"

"Yes."

"Aw, congratulations!" She beams, waddling forward to kiss Sam's cheek with great bravado.

"Uhm, thanks." Sam shuffles away, looking a little uncomfortable.

"We'll have them sent right away!" Mrs. Jublee sweeps up the stack, plopping them down on the table. "I'll do them for you, dear. Don't worry, you go relax. I've got this."

She smiles, porky cheeks dimpling. 

"Oh, no," Sam says. "That's really not necessary."

"Sure it is, I've not got a lot better to do!"

"Well..." Sam glances at Cas, who shrugs. "Okay. I'll be back in a bit, yeah?"

"All good." She smiles. 

The trio exit the store- Cas, for once, jealous of Dean and his eyesight. Blasted sunlight... If he didn't watch it, he'd go blind, too.

"Now what?" Dean pops the collar of his coat.

"I dunno." Sam rolls his shoulders.

"Why don't we take Bones for a walk?"

Dean and Sam pause for a moment, contemplating Cas' suggestion before nodding. "Okay."

"I'll shout us coffee." Castiel slips his hand into Dean's feeling the cold fingers press against his. Sam smirks a little, but doesn't say anything, walking out in front of them.

They begin the trek home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I'm so, so sorry this has take so long to update!  
> At first, I had a huge writers block. Then I had to decide where I wanted to take this story and... URGH  
> I've wound up doing something very different from the original plan, but I'm happy. Hope y'all are, too!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I Dean you!  
> ~ Author  
> 


	11. What Else Is There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So he just holds him. He just holds his Dean and lets him know he's loved...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I rushed through writing this. It's more of a filler chapter than anything, but I hope you enjoy all the same.  
> Thank-you so, so much for the comments and kudos- you guys make my day!  
> <3

Bones leaps up at Dean the moment he steps through the door, damn near balling him over- again. Dean grunts from the furry impact, fumbling with his fingers to find Bones' soft ears, scratching affectionately. 

"How's my eyes?" He chuckles. Bones pants and laps at Dean's hands, yapping happily.

Sam smiles, catching Cas' gaze and winking at him, slipping passed Dean and the dog and heading off to fetch the leash. Cas hunkers in the doorway, deciding there's no point in going inside. He can't swipe the grin off his face, watching Dean ruffle Bones' golden coat.  
"He sure likes you."

Dean rises from where he'd crouched down on his haunches. "Yeah, I guess."

"You'll make a good pair. They said you might need some bonding time, but it seems pretty unnecessary."

Dean wipes his hands on his jeans, wrinkling his nose at the audible squelch. Shuffling over to Cas, he slides his hand into his, stinking of dog. Cas gazes up at him. God he loves him. He loves him so, so much...

Sam reappears, dangling a black leash and harness in his hand. "Who says we try this thing out?"

Dean and Cas nod their heads. Sam wrestles the hyperactive puppy into his official harness, helping Dean close his fingers around the bar. For safety, Sam attaches the black lead to Bones' collar, handing the handle to Cas.  
"Better be safe than sorry, don't want Bones dragging Dean in front of a car."

Cas nods; half-laughing, half-frowning. They set off down the footpath, walking slow so Sam can catch up. Dean stumbles a little, not used to being dragged by the puppy (who is a lot stronger than his fluffy little body suggests). Cas strides beside him, arm being pulled out, extended a little. Sam lopes up beside him, hair flying in the cool breeze.

"So, to HB?"

Castiel nods. "I need to talk to Nora about time off, so why not kill two birds with one stone?"

"Fair enough." Sam shrugs.

Dean yelps and is dragged even further from the duo. Cas lets a small chuckle bounce through his chest, watching Dean bend double, Bones' leash tugging at his own arm. 

"Bones, heel." Cas commands, and, after a moment, the puppy obeys. Castiel's arm screams in protest from the tugging, his wounds still not entirely healed.

"Oh, hey," Sam says, suddenly. "Are you okay." He gestures at Cas' arm.

Castiel hesitates for a moment. "Do you mind?"

Sam takes the lead from him, giving him room to rub at his aching shoulder. "No problem, anything for my eventual-brother-in-law."

Cas' face flushes bright red. "Y-you're the one getting married here, Sam, not me."

"Not yet." Sam laughs, and nudges him playfully. Castiel blows airy laughter through his nose, allowing his gaze to drift to Dean. _Eventual-Husband-To-Be_. Yeah, he likes the sound of that. Maybe one day.

They walk in a pleasant silence after that, each of them caught in their own little fantasies.

Except Bones. He just pants and sniffs at poop.

 

Heavenly Brew is pretty full when the boys arrive. Nora greets them at the door, smiling broadly at Sam.

"Congratulations, Sam!" She squeals, hugging his tightly. She barely knows him, only that he's Castiel's boyfriend's little brother. But it's Nora, she loves everyone. 

"Thank-you, miss." Sam smiles, hugging her back like the kind guy he is. So different from Dean, yet so similar. 

"Oh! And hello, Dean." Nora pecks his cheek.

"Hey, Nora." Dean smiles, a little forced. "Question, is it okay if Bones is in here? He's kinda my eyes-in-training and-"

"Oh, it's not problem." Nora waves her hand at him. "Cas'll show you to the back booth, it's closed off from the others, so he shouldn't bother anyone."

Castiel nods, tugging Dean's arm gently and leading the way to the secluded booth.

Dean slides into a squishy, leather seat, Sam sliding onto the chair opposite them. Cas, however, remains standing. "I have to talk to Nora."

"Oh, right." Sam nods. "If the waitress comes around, what do you want?"

Cas hesitates. "Tell Ruby I'll have my usual."

"Will do." Dean puts a thumbs up in Cas' general direction. Cas shuffles off, heading for the kitchen.

The brothers fall into silence, the the void left with the lack of speech being filled with puppy pants, china chinking and hushed background chatter.

"So," Sam sighs, shifting in his seat. His giant hands spread out on the table in front of him and he stares at his fingers, twitching the one with the shiny sliver ring. "When're you gonna do it?"

Dean frowns, cocking his head to the side.

_Jesus Christ_ , Sam thinks. _He's been around Cas too long_. He almost chuckles aloud.

"Do what?" Dean shifts the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Ask." Sam's voice is dripping with mockery, but there's a serious undertone. 

"Ask what?"

"Cas."

Dean licks his lips. "Ask... Ask Cas what?"

Sam sighs. Dean's dancing around the question. He hates it when Dean plays dumb; his brother isn't nearly are stupid as he'd have you believe. "When're you gonna ask that boy to marry you, dickwad?"

"I'm not a dickwad."

"You are if you don't pick up your game, brother." Sam shakes his head, mane whipping around his shoulders. "I swear to god- you let that guy go and I'll never speak to you again."

Dean huffs. "Sam, can we not talk about my relationships right now? You're the one getting married soon, not me. How're you and Jess?"

Sam frowns at Dean, but soon releases the stubborn tug in his chest. "We're good. Really good."

"Lot's of sex?"

"Gross, Dean!" Sam cries, slapping Dean's arm.

Dean chuckles. "I've always known what gets ya."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. I might start asking you the same thing."

"Oh, for the love of..." Dean throws his hands up.

Ruby slides up beside him, smiling forcedly at them. "Hello, boys. Can I take your orders?"

"Uh, yeah..." Sam glances at Dean. "Can we have, uhm..."

Ruby stares at him, wide-eyed. Sam gapes back, flushing a deep shade of red. "Oh, Ruby. H-hi."

"Sam." She closes her jaw with an audible snap. "Good to see you."

"Uhm. You, too?"

"And Dean." She turns to the shrunken brother; Dean's slid so low down in his seat he's almost under the table. 

"Hey, Ruby." He waves awkwardly.

"What're your orders?" She whips her notebook up, pen ready and a glare eminent on her brow.

Sam opens his mouth, stuttering. "Uhm-"

Dean, however, cuts in, ordering drinks for them all. "Cas'll have his usual," He adds at the end.

Ruby nods, jotting down their order and stalking off.

Sam coughs awkwardly, tucking his hair behind his ears.

"Well..." Dean shifts.

"That was awkward as hell. Thanks for jumping in."

"Anytime." Dean swallows hard, lips dimpling in the corners as he presses them together awkwardly.

"You got a speech ready?" Sam quickly changes the subject.

Dean chokes on air. "What?"

Sam didn't really know where the question came from, it just appeared. "Best man speech, Dean?"

"Oh, yeah." Dean waves a hand. "Sure thing."

"You so do not."

"Shut up."

Sam laughs. _Typical Dean_. "How can you expect me to return the favour if you-"

"Shut. up."

"Make me."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Uh..." Cas appears from nowhere, raising an eyebrow at the pair. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" The boys reply at the same time.

Castiel chuckles and slips into the booth beside Dean, resting his hand on Dean's. "You two..." He shakes his head. His fingers idly shift up to run along the necklace dangling around his neck, the one Dean made him for Christmas.

Sam catches the movement from out the corner of his eye, smiling absently. He knows that feeling, the feeling Dean and Cas have. He felt it when he was dating Jess, he still feels it now. Now that they're getting married, perhaps even more so. It's what made him sure she was the one. A special feeling he had with no one else, a feeling only his 'other half' could give him.  
Love, such love.

"Your order." Ruby drawls, balancing a circular tray in her hand, carefully placing the three mugs on the table. Castiel thanks her, tipping more than necessary, and helps Dean reach for his coffee.

"So..." Dean says, swallowing a mouthful of hot beverage. "You excited?"

Sam heaves a huge sigh, shoulders rising and falling. "Exicited? Yeah. Nervous as anything? Hells yeah."

"You have nothing to be nervous about." Castiel assures.

"I know." Sam shrugs. "But I still am."

"Ah, it's understandable." Dean smirks. "Making such a commitment must be a hard cross to bear. Only one woman for the rest of your life, how will you do it?"

"Shut up, Dean. I'm not like you."

"Damn straight."

Sam raises his eyebrows. "Is that really an appropriate phrase, considering it's _you_?"

"Put a sock in it, Sammy." Dean glowers, sipping his drink.

"It is humouring to witness the pair of you bicker." Cas shakes his head, sipping at his coffee.

Dean rolls his eyes behind his shades. "I bet."

"We bicker because we love each other."

"Yeah... Right."

Sam punches Dean's arm across the table. 

"Hey, whoa!" Dean brushes the shoulder of his shirt. "You can't go hitting the Best Man like that! I gotta look pretty for your wedding, bitch."

"Whatever, jerk."

"Douche."

"Dick."

"Moose."

"Squirrel."

"For the love of God, could you two please save it for another time- preferably not in public? There are children- watch your profanity!"

The Winchesters grumble an apology, Sam muttering something about Cas being the male equivalent of Jess. The trio continue to drink their beverages in peace after that, making small talk and chatting about Sam's upcoming big day. Every once and a while, Dean will absently brush his fingers over Cas' hand, just to make sure he's there, and Sam will smile. Cas will belt out a round of laughter and Dean's whole face will brighten, and Sam will smile. He just smiles. If only they could see themselves.

* * *

"3 weeks went fast." Dean sighs, reclining onto the mattress, feet nearly sticking out the end of the duvet.

"Sure did. Time flies when you are engaging in jollification."

"I do believe the phrase is, 'time flies when you're having fun', Cas. What the hell is 'jollification'."

Castiel chuckles quietly and climbs into the bed, snuggling up beside Dean, relishing in the warmth of his body. "It's a real word, trust me."

"Whatever." Dean's voice is strained, wound tight around an onslaught of tears.

Cas can feel the tension rising inside him, his chest clenching beneath his fingers. "Dean? Are you okay?" He pushes himself up on his elbow, staring down at Dean with concern.

Dean's eyes flutter closed, lips trembling. He shakes his head, a small motion.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Castiel cups Dean's cheek, turning his face towards him. "It's obviously not nothing."

"Just drop it, Cas." 

"Dean," Cas' brow furrows. "It's the night before your younger brother's wedding. I understand that this is hard for you, but this is a time for celebration! A happy time. You should be smiling, Dean. If you're worried about... Sam'll still see you as much as he does now, Dean. This isn't going to change that, alright?"

"It's not just that, Cas." Dean sighs, sniffling. "It's-"

Castiel watches his face crumple. Acting instinctively, he shoots his arms out, wrapping them around Dean's shaking shoulders, burying Dean's head in the crook of his neck. "Shh, Dean! Shh..."

Dean sobs, soaking his shirt. _How do they always end up here_? "I can't see it, Cas."

Castiel almost misses the words, muffled into his own skin. He pushes Dean back gently by the shoulders, staring at him even though Dean can't look back. "What?"

"I-I can't... I want to... But these fucking eyes..." Dean sobs, anguished, clawing at his eyes with shivering fingers. "Fucking useless... Can't even... And Sammy... I just- I want...."

He's babbling now, a blubbering mess, but Castiel gets the message. He shifts them back down in the bed, curling Dean into him and carding his fingers through his hair. He tries with all his might to think of something- anything- to say. But there's nothing.

So he just holds him. He just holds his Dean and lets him know he's loved.

What else is there?


	12. Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12, time for a wedding!

Dean is quiet the whole morning, hardly a word spoken. Castiel can feel the nervous energy rolling off his tense shoulders, noticing the anxious twitches of his hands.

The stylists arrive at 7 a.m, ushering the pair into separate chairs and fussing with their hair. Dean grumbles a little as they gel his golden-brown locks to the side, as opposed to the usual wave at the front. The stylist bats his hand away as his fiddles with it.

"It feels wrong!" He moans. "Does it look bad? Do I look like some preppy asshole with it to the side?"

"No." Castiel assures, taking Dean's hand. "No, you look handsome." To be honest, despite the fact that Dean's complaining in an aggravating, high-pitched tone, he's glad he's finally saying _something_ at all.

Dean snorts and allows the stylist to continue primping, sagging a little in the chair.

Castiel's hair is styled similarly to Dean's, but looks different thanks to the longer length of his dark locks. After his hair is styled, he's clean-shaven and brushed lightly with 'concealer'. 

"You have nice skin." The stylist smiles at him, smoothing her fingers over his cheek.

"Uh... Thanks?" Castiel half-frowns, never being one to care much for his skin.

The stylist beside him giggles, tickling Dean's face with a fluffy brush. Dean's nose crinkles, eyes squeezing shut. He heaves a deep breath and sneezes, nearly blowing himself backwards off the chair. 

The stylist giggles again. "How am I ever going to cover these freckles if you keep making such a fuss?"

"I don't want them covered, what's wrong with freckles?" Dean grumbles, wiping his nose.

The stylist opens her mouth, hesitating. She pauses for a moment before closing her cherry-red lips together and returning the brush to her kit.

_That's right_. Castiel thinks to himself. _There's nothing wrong with them_.

The stylists abandon their preening, fetching the outfits for the pair and laying the clothes out for them. The boys then suit up, standing stiffly as the ladies fuss over their jackets and ties. Dean looks positively dashing in the aftermath of their prep, the suit accentuating his broad shoulders and slimming his waist, the dark pants hugging in all the right places. In all honesty, Castiel is a little worried about taking Dean out looking as fine as he does- especially after the bar incident.

Oh, yes... The bar incident. The memory still weighs heavily on Castiel's mind, a constant nagging in the back of his consciousness. He still can't shake the uneasy feeling he gets when he thinks about it, which is far too often for his liking.

"Oh god!" Dean cries, plastering a hand to his face, snapping Cas from his wandering thoughts. "I'm a painted whore!"

"Shh, Dean. You look fine." Cas hushes him, shooting a conscious sideways glance at the stylists.

"After he gets married, I'm going to kill him." Dean pouts, worrying with the end of his tie.

"Oh, stop it, would you?" Cas pulls the tie away, adjusting it back into place. "This is Sam's big day, stop complaining."

"I have to give a fucking speech." Now it is his lips, Dean just can't stop fiddling. His teeth clasp around his bottom lip, chewing feverishly.

"And you'll deliver it well. Now be quiet."

The stylists disappear downstairs, packing their things away. A shout is heard and Cas peers out the window to see their limousine pull into the curb, Sam sticking his head out of the window, practically glowing.

"Look, the car's here. Can you at least _pretend_ to be happy?"

"I _am_ happy, Cas." Dean lowers his voice. "I'm just..." He trails off.

Castiel keeps his voice soft, taking Dean's hand and squeezing it. "Ready?"

Dean squeezes back. "Ready."

They head outside.

* * *

Quiet music drifts towards them from within the marquee, gentle rhythms flowing over the sound of approaching vehicles and light chatter.

A crowd has gathered around the entrance, awaiting the arrival of the wedding party with great anticipation. Family, friends, co-workers and colleagues; all done up and excited.

Dean lets out a long breath beside Cas, leaning back into the seat as the limo rolls to a stop outside the entrance.

"Looks like we're the first of the party." Cas takes Dean's hand and kisses his knuckles lightly, just brushing them, before unbuckling their seat belts and taking Dean's shivering arm.

"Thank god, I'd hate to mess this part up." Sam winks as he turns to face the pair from his place in the front seat. "I thought Dean was the one that's supposed to make sure I get here on time, not the other way around. Good going, Best Man."

"Shut up, bitch." Dean snaps as Sam laughs.

"Jerk."

The door is opened for them and they step out, Castiel quietly guiding Dean's feet as he waves his hand out in front of him. The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles, applauding the groom and best man- oh, and groomsman. Sam strolls ahead, beaming and waving, receiving pats on the back and excited kisses. Dean gets a similar welcome, with Cas taking it second-hand, and they push their way inside.

The tent is set up beautifully, chair's adorned with white silk and bows, round tables bearing shining dishes and delicate vases with lucious red roses. The view is glorious, overlooking the beach. They were ever so lucky to have been blessed with a sunny day, the air warm but not too sticky. Pleasant, in all manners of the word.

Cas leads Dean to the front, kissing his hand before passing him his fancy silver stick- for special occasions- and stepping back a pace or two. Sam stands beside his brother, towering over him. "I'd ask you if my tie looked okay, but a fat lot of help you'd be."

Dean punches at Sam's arm, missing and hitting his chest instead. "Your stupid fucking tie looks great."

"Okay, okay, calm down." Sam's face falls a little and he glances at Cas, giving him a questioning look. 

Cas screws up his mouth, shrugging and shaking his head.

Sam nods and smiles, returning to his previous bubbly persona, although it now seems a little forced. "Does my tie look good, Cas?"

"It's perfect."

Sam grins and thanks him, rolling his shoulders back and standing straight. "What's the time?"

Cas, who seems to have become the honorary best man on Dean's behalf, checks his watch. "We have ten minutes."

"Could you let the guests in?"

Cas inclines and shuffles to the entrance, calling the crowd inside and instructing them to find their name-cards and settle into the seats. The crowd stampedes into the marquee, sweeping him along with them. Five minutes later, a majority of the crowd is seated and chatting happily. Castiel takes this as his cue to return to Dean's side and stick to his edgy boyfriend like glue. 

"We're cutting it fine, now." He warns, trying not to sound so nervous for Dean's sake.

"Yeah, but don't we always?" Sam laughs. "Jesus, would you look at the two of you? You'd think you were the one's getting married- _relax_!"

Cas lets out a long breath and smiles, nodding. He hadn't meant to get so stressed, he just wants this to be perfect- for Jess and Sam. He wants them to be happy just as much as Dean. They are his best friends, and they mean a great deal to him.

Bones lets out a loud yap from the corner of the room, where Jess' sister had tied him. His little puppy barks are soon coupled with the rumble of an engine and the sound of slamming doors.

"They're here." Cas grins up at Sam, watching as his face glows brighter with each passing moment. Dean shuffles, gulping audibly and sighing. Cas places a soothing hand on his shoulder, rubbing it slightly with his thumb. _It's okay_.

Benny stands at the door, turning to the crowd, looking out-of-character in his trim suit. "The bride has arrived, if you would all stand."

The audience rises, hushing as the music begins to play and the procession starts.

First is Jessica's niece and nephew as the flower girl and ring bearer, looking adorable in their miniaturised versions of the wedding party's outfits.

"Who is it?" Dean leans back a little.

"Haley and Jacob. Flower girl and ring bearer." Cas whispers.

"Do they look cute?"

"Adorable. Haley's wearing a little version of the bridesmaid's dresses I described before, complete with a huge bow at the back. Jacob is wearing something very similar to me. They look very cute."

Dean nods, smiling softly.

The crowd's 'awing' turns to cheers and whistles as the bridesmaids make their entrance, a sea of purple flowing gracefully down the isle. They look gorgeous, like goddesses, as they float down the walkway. Cas describes the sight to Dean, naming each one of the ladies as they take their places up the front.

Then, the moment everyone has been waiting for.

Time seems to stand still as Jess appears in the entrance, beams of sunlight catching in the white of her dress, giving her a golden aura as she enters the tent, arm wrapped tight around her fathers much the way Dean's had around Cas' when they entered. She looks gorgeous- beyond beautiful. As radiant at the sun, her golden hair shimmering beneath the veil. Cas feels his throat constrict as he watches her, walking daintily, featherlight steps carrying her closer to Sam. He glances sideways at the groom, watching the tears brim in his eyes, the most beautiful smile breaking out across his face.

Cas leans in and describes it, all of it, to Dean in as much detail as he can. Oh god, he wants Dean to see. He hopes he can see it; paint it in his mind.

Castiel can hardly keep the smile out of his voice.

Jess reaches the alter and turns, releasing her father to take Sam's hands, smiling up at him.

The crowd is seated and the rest is a blur. The vows, statements, union, rings... Then there's the 'I do's'. Sam, and then Jess, and the crowd screams; a thunderous applause as the veil is lifted and Sam pulls Jess in for a breathless kiss, sealing them together, sweeping her from her feet.

Dean lets out a small sob, unnoticed by anyone but Cas as his grip tightens on his shoulder, grounding him. "It's okay, Dean."

"I know."

Sam puts Jess down and they wave, smiling brighter than ever before, a little teary. They're lead to the reception desk where they sign, before everyone, and Cas reads it out to Dean before guiding his hand to the line, trying to ignore the shaking of his fingers as he scribbles his signature.

Then the music plays up again and the crowd begins to mingle. Sam and Jess remain where they are, receiving congratulations and exchanging kisses. Cas ushers Dean away, leading him outside to catch his breath before he faces his married brother. Dean whimpers as he pushes the flap of the marquee, stepping out into the sea breeze.

"It's okay, Dean. Just breathe." They stand a little way from the entrance, wind flapping their ties and jackets.

"I-" Dean swallows thickly. "I'm okay, Cas. Let's just go back inside."

"No, Dean." Cas places his hands on both Dean's shoulders, staring him in the eyes despite the fact that Dean isn't looking back. He tends to feel it when Cas looks him in the eye. "You're not alright. You can't lie to me, okay? My number one priority today is to make sure that you're okay, and yours is to make sure Sam is okay- if I fail, it's a chain reaction, Dean. We don't want to ruin this for them- and we won't- we've just got to be careful. Just... Just hang in there, at least until we're home, okay? At least until we're home, safe."

Dean nods, dropping his head to Cas' chest. "I love you."

"I Dean you."

There's a light chuckle, barely anything more than warm breath on fabric, but enough. Cas kisses his forehead before pulling back and leading Dean back inside and up to the couple.

Dean tackles Sam, laughing hysterically as he messes his hair, dragging his giant of a baby brother down to his level and into a tight headlock.

"Careful!" Jess laughs. "Don't break my new husband before we even make it to the honeymoon!"

Dean laughs again and releases Sam, punching him in the arm. "Alright, Jess. Just 'cause you're the prettiest damn thing on the planet and you asked so nicely, I'll let 'im go."

Jess thanks him sarcastically as pulls him down into a kiss. Then Cas, hugging him tight.

"You look gorgeous." Cas mumbles into her hair. 

"Thank-you." She whispers back.

"You take care of him, okay?"

She laughs softly, light but serious. "You too."

The two pull back, staring at each other for a moment. Something special is exchanged between them. The Winchester boys, their sun and stars. Both of them infatuated with the brothers. A promise to keep what is most precious to each other's lover safe. A promise that can't be vocalised. A promise they make between themselves only.

"Hey, watch it there, Cas." Sam pulls him in, slapping his back heavily. "That's my wife."

Cas laughs and hugs his back. "Of course, terribly sorry."

The four exchange more jokes, laughs and hugs before dispersing; Cas and Dean making their way to their seats to settle and eat before the speeches.

Cas settles Dean in, relishing in the romantic, happy air of the place. He listens in on other's conversations, smiling at the compliments and praises directed at his friends.

"What a beautiful wedding." Says a bridesmaid to the waiter.

_Yes_ , Cas thinks. _A beautiful wedding, indeed_.

* * *

 

"No."

"Breathe."

"No."

"Dean." Cas forces his voice to be stern.

"No."

"Dean, you're the best man. Get up there."

"No."

Benny leans over the table, punching Dean's arm. "Grow a pair, Winchester. Get the fuck up there."

Dean heaves a heavy sigh. "God have mercy."

Cas helps him up, guiding him to the stage and fixing the mic to his height before heading back down to his seat. The crowd quietens, smiling at Dean as he shuffles awkwardly under their gaze.

"Uh-hum..." Dean clears his throat. "Uhm..."

Sam slides over to Cas, whispering in his ear. "He looks nervous as _shit_."

"He is."

"You did tell him it doesn't have to be anything fancy or long, right?"

"I did."

Sam chuckles. "If he faints, do you mind dragging him off stage?"

"Of course not."

Sam winks and returns to Jess' side, smiling up at his big brother. "This century, Dean!"

"Shut it, moose." Dean snaps, the crowd collectively laughs.

"Ten bucks says he completely fucks this up." Cas overhears Benny whisper to Zeke. 

"You're on."

_Come on, Dean_. Cas crosses his fingers- toes, eyes, everything. _You can do this_.

Dean shuffles before opening his mouth again, eyes closed. "When Sammy and I were kids, all we had was each other. All we've ever had is each other. Jesus, Sam, there ain't no me if there ain't no you."

_He's doing it. He's doing it_...

"You're my little brother, first and foremost. But you're also my best friend." He smiles a little. "Dad used to go on work trips a lot, with mum, and dump us- I mean, the old neighbour would babysit us. We had some great memories at that backyard. Like the day you were 5 and dressed up as Batman, jumped off the shed because you thought you could fly- you remember that? Idiot. Everyone knows-" He breaks into laughter, which is mimicked by the crowd, loudest of all Sam. "Everyone knows _Batman can't fly_."

"In my defence, you jumped off first!" Sam shouts, eliciting more laughter.

"Yeah, but I was 9 and dressed as _Superman_." Dean grins. "And you broke your arm, not me. You remember that?"

"Yeah, you took me to ER on the handlebars of your pushbike."

"Yeah, yeah I did. I was a good brother."

"Hardly."

"Whose speech is this?" The crowds laughs again and Sam chuckles, 'zipping' his mouth shut. Dean coughs and continues. "Anyway, my point is, I've watched this kid grow. And I mean grow. Fucking look at him- oh Jesus, am I allowed to swear at weddings?" Dean claps a hand to his mouth. "Sorry, sorry... I mean, he's massive, right? I remember a time- a long, long time ago- when I was the taller one. Yeah, not anymore. In fact, I think he surpassed me the year I-" He cuts off suddenly, mouth twitching. "The year I stopped being able to watch him grow. But I know he's continued, I hug lower and lower each time we meet. One of these days I'm going to have to stand on my tip-toes just to hug his knees! And don't get me started on the hair! That mop has grown and matured with him." Sam turns to face the audience and whips his head, imitating a female shampoo advert, luscious hair falling to his shoulders.

Dean looks a little stricken, and Cas feels his heart sink. "I miss seeing him. Seeing the man he's become. God, what I wouldn't give to see him now, today, with Jess. You know, I've never seen Jess, and, yet, I can bet you my right arm she's the most beautiful girl on the planet- inside and out. I know she is. If there's one thing I've come to know well, it's the character of a person. It's surprisingly easy to judge once the distraction of a pretty face is out of the way. I consider it a gift to be able to see the true beauty in people. And I tell you what, Sammy, you've got the most beautiful woman of them all you lucky bastard. You're both incredibly lucky to have each other. The luckiest, most beautiful couple on the planet- and I'm not the least bit biased. Sam, I am so-" Dean chokes, a heart wrenching sound. It melts the smug looks from the faces around him, replacing them with wide eyes and brimming tears. "I am so proud of you. So proud..."

Cas doesnt realise he's gotten up until his feet hit the stage, eyes trained on Dean.

"I love you, and this is a total chick flick moment- God, you know I hate those- but I love you, man. I'm so proud of you, little brother." Dean forces the words through tears, trying to hide his face behind his hand, cupping the mic. Cas drifts to his side, ignoring the crowd as he takes the microphone from Dean and ushers him off the stage and to his seat, hugging him close. Sam and Jess have been reduced to tears, blubbering messes- both of them- a dozen tissues passed their way.

The crowd is in a shocked silence before the next spokesperson appears on stage and the party rolls on.

Castiel doesn't let Dean go, keeping his arms wrapped protectively around him as he buries his head in his shoulder. For the first time this evening, he sees Dean's parents, catching John's eye. They stare at each other for a moment, John shooting daggers at him.  
_Oh, no_..

 

The ceremony passes slowly, eventually fading into a wild evening, loud music and lights flashing through the crowd. The DJ arrives, bobbing his head as he plays record after record, the crowd jumping. Dean calms as time drags on, getting up to dance, occasionally returning to Cas' side to ask for drinks. Cas just sits and watches, Dean never wandering very far for fear of not being able to relocate Cas.

"Alright ladies and gents," The DJ calls through the microphone. "This next sequence is for all you couples out there. Starting with the bride and groom's waltz, then the rest of y'all can join in. So grab your lady and throw on your dancing shoes, and let the music guide you through!"

The music changes and the crowd cheers as Jess and Sam glide onto the dance floor, a slow song leaking through the speakers. They twist, turn and leap across the floor, a sweeping blur of white and black, eventually joined by others.

"Hey, Dean?" Cas didn't mean to actually say the words, but now he's got his attention, he might as well ask. "You want to dance?"

Dean looks shocked. "What?"

"Dance?"

His mouth opens and closes, up and down. "We can't, Cas, what will people... What will they think?"

"What do we care?" Cas takes his hand. "Dance with me."

Dean shifts nervously, a blush creeping into his cheeks. "I can't, anyway. I don't know how, I- I can't see and... And I-"

"Shut up and dance with me." Cas pulls him up, cupping one hand up in an L shape with his, placing the other on his own shoulder, letting Dean feel things out, get his bearings. Cas slips his free hand around Dean's waist and holds it there, finding it a little harder than most due to Dean's lack of womanly curves. Not that he minds. Not that he minds at all.

They step back slowly onto the dance floor, Dean tripping a little and gripping Cas' hand tight. "My dad'll see."

Cas swallows hard. "So?"

"Cas," Dean sounds genuinely terrified. "You have no idea what he's like..."

"It doesn't matter." Cas pulls him closer, pressing them flush together. "Let him see. I won't let him touch you, Dean. I'll protect you."

"I don't deserve that, Cas. Not after what I did. Not after the bar-"

"We've talked about this." Cas stops their rocking motion for a moment. "It wasn't your fault. Stop bringing it up."

"Cas-"

"No." Cas presses his lips to Dean's, ignoring the stares they receive. "Stop. I love you, okay? I love you so, so much. Just stop. Let them see, since when have you cared, anyway?"

Dean presses his lips together, licking where Cas' had been moments before. "Okay."

Cas resumes their slow movements, proceeding to teach Dean to waltz, laughing when he steps on his feet, or trips into his arms. "You've got two left feet, Dean!"

"Shut up, Cas, you try being blind." He snaps, but he laughs all the same.

Eventually, under Castiel's uttered instructions, "Right foot, left foot, turn." He gets the hang of it, picking up a little speed.

Sam sweeps passed, Jess at his side, and winks at them. "Looking good, lads."

Cas grins back. "You, too."

"Fuck off." Dean grumbles.

Sam chortles and dances away, shaking his head.

Cas and Dean continue to twirl together through the song and into the next, and the one after that. Dean clinging to Cas like he's the very air he breathes and Castiel staring at him like the greens of his eyes hold to the keys to his universe, and in all honesty, where's the lie?

They stand at the front of the crowd as Sam and Jess depart, headed for their new adventure together, the next chapter of their life, leaving the boys in the dust, hands raised in farewell. Cas stares at them, drinking in the sight for the last time in a while, memorising their faces for him and Dean both. Dean remains calm and collected right through the packing up, farewelling the guests and accepting congratulations for being the brother of the groom- the best man.

He keeps up a forced smile, even when his parents approach, dragging his away into the shadows for a moment. Cas waits for him to reappear, not commenting on the look on his face when he does.

They make it all the way home before Dean comes apart at the seams.


	13. Past Ghosts, Future Hauntings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the early hours of the morning when Dean and Cas finally stagger through the door of Castiel's apartment...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, friends, 'tis finally here! AN UPDATE!  
> ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ

It's the early hours of the morning when Dean and Cas finally stagger through the door of Castiel's apartment. Cas waves the chauffeur farewell and turns back to Dean, still smiling, only to feel that grin melt from his face, hardening into something else- something disquieted.  
"Dean?"

Dean sits against the wall, shuddering, knees drawn up and wrapped tight to his chest by his arms, head buried between them. "He's gone."

"Dean?" Cas whispers again, slowly approaching the huddled figure on the ground.

"Sammy's gone."

"He'll be back, Dean."

Dean raises his head slightly, shaking it. "No. No, he's gone."

Cas bites his lip. "Okay, it's okay. You've had a bit much to drink, okay? How about we get you to bed and-"

"You gotta go, Cas." Dean's words cut Cas short.

"What?" He stares, heart hammering.

"Go." Dean pushes futilely at his chest with flimsy hands. "Please, Cas, go. You- you gotta get away from me, okay?"

"Dean?" Cas grabs at his forearms. "What are you talking about?"

"Dad-" The teary man chokes. Dean's moments of fragility such as these scare Cas; because gone is the macho man who scoops up unsuspecting coffee shop barristers and drags them to redneck steak houses for dates. In his stead, there's a little blind boy, hollowed and scared, clawing for whatever light he can find in his dark, dark world.

"Dean, whatever John said to you, forget it."

"I... Can't..." Dean's eyes droop, the alcohol in his system finally taking it's toll.

Cas tries to brush off Dean's strange behaviour, nervousness tingling over the surface of his skin, pulsing off him is near-visible waves. _What is Dean talking about?_

"Let's get you to bed, okay? Just hush, Dean. Shh, it's okay. It's- It's okay." Cas swallows his worry, scooping Dean up in his arms and half-walking, half-carrying him up the stairs to the bedroom. Dean merely whimpers, muttering odd, jumbled sentences as Cas undresses him, carefully laying his suit out on the dresser. Once Dean is stripped down to his boxers, Cas helps him into the bed, pulling the covers up tight under his chin.

"Hush now, Dean." Cas soothes, stroking a hand over Dean's forehead and through his hair. "Get some rest."

Dean mutters something that sounds like, "Thank-you." Cas can't be sure. He stops mumbling after a moment and settles, breathing deeply. Cas half smiles, leaning down to place a lingering kiss to Dean's forehead before slipping out of the room. He'll take the couch tonight, give Dean some space. Hopefully by morning whatever it was that caused this panic in Dean will be gone and he'll be back to his normal, joking self.

Hopefully.

* * *

Dean awakens to a pounding headache, his throat feeling like he'd just swallowed an entire cactus whole.

"Fuck." He wheezes, his voice high-pitched and caught in his throat.

"Paracetamol's on the counter, so is a glass of water." Cas' voice rumbles from somewhere beside him. He sounds tired, worn. They had been up late- or should he say _early_ \- last night. Dean didn't blame Cas for being fatigued.

"Thanks." Dean squeaks, waving a hand out cautiously. "I feel... Shoot, where is it?"

"Here." There's a rustle and then the cool glass of a glass slips into Dean's awaiting hand. A second later, two pills fall into his palm and Dean downs them both in two gulps, then drains the remainder of the glass.

"Thanks." Dean swallows thickly, trying to coat over the flames in his oesophagus.

"No problem, Dean. How are you feeling?"

Dean rubs the sleep from his eyes as he answers, trying not to make any sudden movements. "Well, as I was gonna say, I feel like shit."

"You did drink a lot."

"I didn't..." Dean bites his lip, unsure as to whether he really wants to know the answer, "Do anything stupid, did I?"

Cas chuckles and Dean feels chapped lips brush over his forehead. "No, you behaved." There's a pause, then Castiel continues. "How much do you remember about last night?"

The concern edging Cas' voice sends icy shards through Dean's heart. What had happened? He strains his memory, spiking the pain in his head. 

There'd been the wedding, dancing, his father... Oh.

"Not much after Sam left." He lies.

"Oh," Cas almost sounds disappointed. "Well, that's all you really need to recall, I suppose."

Dean nods, scratching awkwardly at his forearm. "When do you go back to work?"

"That eager to get rid of me?" Cas jokes. Dean hears him stand, the clanking of glasses clattering from his left.

"Of course not!" Dean replies seriously. "I was just wondering."

"I know." Cas kisses him proper this time, leaning over the bed to press his lips gingerly to Dean's. "I go back tomorrow."

"Oh." Dean licks his lips, tasting where Cas had just been. God, that man is divine. "Well, we can do something today if you wa-"

"With a hangover like that, Dean, I don't think you'll be leaving the _bed_ today, let alone the _house_."

"But-"

"No." Castiel's voice is gentle, understanding. "It's okay, Dean. Seriously. I'm happy to potter around, you rest up. I'd rather stay home with a healthy, happy boyfriend, then go out with a sick, grouchy one."

Dean leans back, sinking into the soft cushions of the bed. "Thanks, Cas."

"There's no need to thank me, Dean." Cas' voice is trailing further away, heading for the door. He pauses for a second under the white frame, glancing over his shoulder at Dean. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Dean frowns, keeping his eyes closed, nose crinkling. "Yeah, why?"

"No reason." Cas runs a hand over the handle of the door, stroking his fingers over the cool metal. "I Dean you."

Heavy breathing is his only response, and Cas steps out, closing the door gently behind him.

 

The kitchen is a mess, clustered with overturned shrapnel that they'd stirred up in their flurry the day before. Their suit jackets are still slung over the back of one of the counter stools, shoe polish still sitting open on the table, stinking out the place. Cas shuffles to the window, throwing it open and waving his arms. It's a glorious day outside, the sun shining down over the dewy lawns. Cas lets his eyelids flutter closed for a moment, breathing in the fresh air.

Maybe he'll go for a walk. 

Dragging himself away from the window, Cas drops the glasses in the sink and starts tossing things away. Socks are flung into the wash basket, wrappers dropped into the bin. He doesn't remember letting the house get this bad, he's usually so clean. Dean's rubbing off on him.

He tosses two slices of bed into the toaster, shoving the button down. He doesn't really feel like breakfast, but he needs it. His stomach growls at him, urging him to hurry it up. He was going to fix Dean some pancakes to celebrate Sam's marriage, but that plan went down the drain.

It's all gone down the drain.

Cas let's his memory drift back to the night before, Dean collapsed in his entry way. He'd looked so small, so fragile. A broken child, tearstained cheeks flushed and swollen. What had John said to him to tear him down like that? Dean was a strong man, really. He liked to make out like he was top stuff, but he really was damn near unbreakable inside. It'd take a massive force to open Dean's floodgates like that in front of someone- even drunk. So what had happened?

Cas is so lost in his thoughts that he nearly has a heart attack when the toaster pops. He lets out a strangled cry, nearly hitting the roof.

"Stupid thing." He growls at the machine, flicking his toast out onto the plate and spreading butter over the crusty pieces. "Stupid, stupid thing." His hand slips, the metal blade of the knife sliding though his grip, embedding itself in his thumb. Blood begins oozing from the wound, spilling over his hand. "Stupid, bloody thing," Cas pinches his thumb, trying to stem the flow. It's not a deep cut, nothing a bandaid won't fix. "Dumb. Idiot," Tears well in his eyes, blurring his vision, "Idiot... Idiot..."

_What is he doing_?

Castiel shoves his hand under the tap, running cold water over the stinging wound. He dries his hands on a paper towel and peels open a bandaid, sticking it over his thumb. Forget breakfast, he needs to get out. Take a walk. _Breathe_.

"Dean!" He shouts. "I'm going... I'm-" Forget it, he can't hear him. Cas scrawls a note into the fridge and grabs his coat, whipping it over his shoulders. The tan one, his favourite. He barely thinks about what he's doing. A note on the fridge? His boyfriend is _blind_.   
Had he any clarity to his thought process, Cas may have reconsidered scrawling something hastily onto the refrigerator with a fucking marker. Had he been thinking clearly at all, he may not have even gone.

He doesn't bother locking the door when he leaves, skipping down the steps and out onto the path.

Who can he ask about Dean? No one. Sam's gone, and even if he could reach him, Cas wouldn't want to bother the newlywed. Not John, he's the problem. Not Mary, either. Who? Cas racks his brain, trying desperately to think of someone. Benny, Dean's hunting pal? No, Cas doubts they really get all touchy-feely on their trips. Cas imagines them trekking through the woods, silently enjoying each other's company as they drop bullets into unsuspecting prey. Yeah, that's what Dean's like with just about everyone. Who is there that would know him, then? Who is there besides Sam- besides Cas, himself- who knows Dean's dark secrets?

No one.

Of course he chose the world's most reclusive boyfriend. Dean's so good at hiding his secrets, you wouldn't think he has any at all. But he does. He sure does.  
Cas hadn't been paying attention to where his feet were carrying him, buried in his thoughts. When he glances up he finds himself standing outside HB. The place they had met all those months ago. Where had Dean taken him? The Roadhouse. There'd been that woman, Ellen. Dean said he knew her well. Did she know him well?

It was worth a shot.

* * *

Dean awakens screaming, his already raw throat stinging in retaliation. His body is coated in sweat, dripping from his hair, down his back. He passes a shaky hand through his drenched locks, his whole body trembling.

"Cas?" He croaks. He'd been crying, he can taste the tears. "Cas?!" He throat begs him not to talk, his head pounding in defiance as he tosses his legs over the side of the bed. He tries to stand, collapsing into a sprawled tangle of limbs on the carpet. "Cas!"

There's no answer.

"Oh no, no, no..." Dean tries to push himself up, his arms turned to jelly. He collapses back onto his face, tears choking him. His dream is still fresh in his mind, the pain still coursing through him.

 

It was so stupid, but so real. He'd been at Sam's wedding when everything had suddenly turned black. People were screaming. Dean was frozen. Something was wrong, the stench of panic thick in the air. He vision turned dark. He was starting to stop seeing.

How had he seen in the first place?

"I can't see," He'd cried. "I can't see!"

"It's okay, Dean." Someone had answered. Cas- it was Cas' voice. But he sounded so worried. So _sad_. "It's going to be okay, just close your eyes."

"I can't see you."

"You've never seen me, Dean."

"Cas," Dean'd whimpered. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

"Let him go, Dean." John appeared in the outskirts of Dean's fading vision. He tore the blur that was Cas away. Dean tried to grab at him, hands desperately grasping into the dark. He began scream for Cas. Someone screamed back.

His dream had gone so black, so quiet, he'd almost convinced himself he'd woken up under the covers of his bed. Then someone started shreiking- not him, someone else. Someone was shouting, someone was crying.

He was the one crying.

"Open your eyes, Dean." Someone said. He'd opened his eyes then. When had they closed? It didn't matter, he wasn't at the wedding anymore, he was at a hospital. He was in a hospital bed, stark white walls closing in around him. People were standing around him, faces he didn't recognise. Except one.

His father.

"Dad?"

"Can you see now, Dean? Can you see now you let him go?"

Dean had been so confused, his heart hammering in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"You made your choice, son." His father's face was emotionless, hard. "I knew you'd make the right one, Dean."

"What?"

John stepped back, revealing a slumped figure in the corner of the room. Drying blood splattered over a beige coat, a rotten smell wafting from the whatever lay beneath the mop of black hair. A blue tie glistened in the dark.

"Cas?"

John dropped beside Castiel's body, ripping his head up by the matted strands of his hair.

The face was familiar.  
It wasn't Castiel's.

"Don't touch him!" Dean's screamed. "Don't you touch him!" His wrists strained against the restraints keeping him locked to the cot.

"You made your choice." John said. The face was missing eyes. Hollow, black sockets stood where their eyes should've been.

Dean'd leapt up, suddenly free, running and skidding to a halt in from of the mirror that had somehow appeared in the corner of the room. Blue eyes stared back. Dean's eyes weren't blue- Cas' were. Cas said he had blue eyes.

Blue eyes like Castiel's. Blue eyes like-

Those weren't his own eyes.

John stood behind him, and hand on his shoulder, "You made a choice."

Dean screamed.

 

The house is quiet. No one answers him.

"Castiel?" Dean is starting to panic, his heart hammering in his chest. There are no blotchy bright patches in his vision, only darkness. There is no sound, no feeling, no input at all. Nothing. Dean has never felt so blind. "Castiel Novak, for fucks sake, ANSWER ME!"

_Where's Cas gone_?

A sudden, terrible thought crosses Dean's mind. What if he's not awake? What if-

What if he hadn't been dreaming at all in the first place? What if Cas is actually gone? What if...

The phone calls, causing Dean to nearly jump out of his skin. He heaves himself up, stumbling towards the sound. His hand gropes around in the dark, searching for the house phone. His fingers brush over something hard and plastic, and he picks it up, feeling for the left button- the answer button. "H-" He chokes.

"Dean?"

Dean lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Cas."

"Are you okay, love?"

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, still trembling. "No." Wait- what? He'd meant to lie.

Dean curses he mouth for speaking on it's own, for making Cas worry. Surely he was worrying.

"Oh no, what's wrong? Are you okay? Has something happened? I knew I shouldn't have left, I just... I'll be right back, Dean. Just- just hang on, I'll-"

Yep, he was worrying. "Stop fretting, Cas." Dean tries to stabilise his voice. "S'nothing, don't worry. I meant no 'cause of... Of the hangover, and- yeah. I'm fine."

"Dean," Cas' voice has dropped, adopting a soft but serious tone. "You're not alright. I know you well enough to know when you are and are not alright, Dean. You're not okay, so stop lying to me. I'll be home in five minutes- please, just sit tight and wait for me."

"Cas-"

"Five minutes." He hangs up.

Dean drops the phone with a loud clatter, slumping back against... The wall? He doesn't know anymore, he's lost his bearings entirely.

Good news- his hangover's calmed down.

Bad news- he feels even more shaky, nauseous and rotten than before.

He heaves a heavy sigh and rubs his face. Five minutes until he has to face the music, face his fretting boyfriend.

"He called me love." He mumbles to himself. He almost chuckles. Almost.

The time ticks by slowly, every second drawn out. Dean tries to deep-breathe and calm down before Cas arrives, feeling the sweat drying on his skin. He feels cold and clammy, yet hot and bothered simultaneously.

God, he hates dreams. They're never kind to him.

He bites his lip. He'd meant to forget the dream, but he can't. Part of him is glad- now he can tell Cas, get his help, figure it all out. But the rest of him is...

At least there's finally a change in the dreams that haunt him. For years it was the car crash. Maybe it's because, in a list of things, the items your remember the most are the first and last. Dean can't remember his fist visible memories, but he can recall his last. The last item on the list of his sighted life was the crash that ended it all.

He'd had to relive it so many times, he thought he'd go mad.

He's never told Castiel this, now he thinks about it. Maybe he should.

The door downstairs slams shut and hurried footsteps scurry up the staircase toward him, the door to the bedroom creaking open. There's an audible gasp.

"Cas, I sure fucking hope that's you. I really... I  really don't feel like getting murdered today." Dean tries to joke, but it backfires.

"Dean," He hears Castiel drop beside him, something warm and soft wrapping around his shoulders. "Oh my God."

"Did you just say 'God'?"

"Shut up... Shut up... Oh my God, you look awful." Dean hears Cas choke on his words and it physically hurts.

"I told you not to worry."

"Well," Strong arms grab him, snaking behind his neck. "You should see yourself."

"I wish I could." 

Cas goes still. Dean freezes as well, sucking in a sharp breath. It was meant to be a meaningless comment.  
He's fucked it up now.

"I..." Cas let's go, drawing away. Dean's heart literally aches for him to come back. "I talked to Ellen."

"Oh." Dean isn't sure what to say.

"She told me about you and John."

"Oh."

Cas makes a strangled sound before speaking, his words cloaked with tears. "Dean, why didn't you tell me?"

Dean feels his eyes water, his face twitching, contorting. Great, now he's crying, too.The two of them, two grown jackasses, crying on the floor. "I... don't know? I don't know."

"Dean," Cas' gentle hands grip his cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

" _I don't know!_ " Dean yells. Shit, he didn't mean to yell.

"Don't you trust me?" Castiel's voice is raising to match. "Didn't you think I deserved to know? Did you think I cared so little that you didn't think it was worth telling me?"

"No, Cas, I-"

"Do you not know how much I love you? Do you not understand what I'd do for you?"

"Cas-"

"If I'd known, I would've done something! Dean, you can't just bottle this up! You should have told me. I-I _deserved to know!_ "

"Well, y'know what?" Dean's anger flares, his voice dropping dangerously low, dripping with venom, "This isn't about you. Shut the fuck up and stop crying- stop it. This isn't. fucking. about. _you!_ " His fists clench.

Castiel flinches- Dean can feel him flinch. He pulls back, falling onto his hands on an effort to put as much distance between Dean and him as he can. Did he think-?

Dean feels the world shatter around him.  
Did Cas think he was going to _hit him_?

Dean feels like throwing up. He didn't mean to say that, not at all, not _ever_. It was the fear talking. Oh god, he'd _never_...

"Wait, Cas..." Dean voice grows so quiet even he can barely hear it. "Oh my god, Cas, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I just- I'm _so_ sorry."

Dean doesn't hear anything for a moment, not even the quiver of Castiel's breath. For a second he thinks Cas has left him. He wouldn't blame him.

"Me too, Dean." Warm lips press against his knuckles, running up to his wrist to press another kiss over his veins. "I'm so, so sorry."

Dean takes a deep breath and pulls Cas in. He doesn't want to fight, not with him. Not with the one person he loves most in this world. The one person he trusts completely, entirely, as much has he trusts Sam. "I think you should know the full story."

Cas snuggles into him, now encased in Dean's arms. "Ellen didn't tell me much, I'm not sure whether it's because she doesn't know, or because she thought you were the one who should tell me."

"Probably a bit of both."

Castiel's gentle fingers rub circles into Dean's forearms. "Dean, what happened?"

Dean swallows. "Well, it all began when we were kids, I guess..."


	14. Shadows of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dean, what happened?"  
> Dean swallows. "Well, it all began when we were kids, I guess..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Angstville, have a pleasant stay :)

Castiel hops off the bus, the icy air biting at his exposed skin as he scurries to the bar entrance. A short line of motorbikes guard one side of the rickety of barn house, a couple of cars scattered throughout the lot. It doesn't seem particularly busy this afternoon, which makes Cas feel a little easier. It wasn't that he didn't trust the bar-going folk, it's just one can never be _too_ careful.

Warm air washes over him as he pushes the door open, inviting him into the welcoming Roadhouse. He can see Jo from where he stands, bending over at the bar to pour a shot for a hairy fella with a cowboy hat perched on his head. In the corner booth two men sit laughing, chugging their beers. A few other patrons are sprinkled through the place, relaxing on the surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs, but not enough people to make Cas uneasy. He shrugs off his coat and scuffles to the bench, leaning over to talk to Jo.

"Hello, Jo." He smiles. 

The young blonde glances up from where she is squatted, pulling bottles from behind the bar. "Oh- hey, Castiel." She returns Cas' smile and stands up, placing the bottles down. "What can I getcha?"

"Ah, actually..." Cas watches her as she works, expertly pouring and mixing, both hands moving swiftly and precisely with practised skill. "I was looking for your mom, is she here?"

Jo nods and pokes a thumb towards the back of the bar. "Yep, she's out back. Want me to fetch her?"

"Oh, no, I can find her myself, thanks." Cas excuses himself and slides around the side of the bench, heading towards the gloomy rear of the building. He pushes the door open with his elbow, glancing into to the back room. A desk is propped up against the back wall, accompanied by a shelving unit. Another set of shelves stands next to the door, obscuring his view to the left, and a dingy lamp lights up the ratty red rug. The place should feel tatty, but it gives off more of a cosy, homely vibe.

Cas likes it, it sort of reminds him of Dean- which he guesses is why Dean feels so comfortable here.

"Ellen?" He asks, just loud enough to make himself heard without shouting.

"Yeah, just a sec!" Comes the reply and Cas slips inside the room, closing the door. "I just had to find the- Oh, Castiel." Ellen grins, looking surprised. She shares the same expressions as Jo; it is obvious they are related.

"Hello, Ellen. How are you?"

Cas holds out his hand to her. She ignores it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders instead. "Good, good, how are you? How's Dean-o?"

"I'm good, thank-you." Cas bites his lip. "Dean, however..."

"Oh." Ellen's face drops and she lets go, "Is something the matter?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure." Cas scuffles the toe of his shoe across the carpet, overturning the single fibres. "He's been... Can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure." Ellen has a quiet comfort in her voice, the kind of tone a mum uses one her troubled teen. Worried, but not panicking. Reassuring, sort of. "Sure, take a seat." Cas follows her further into the room and plants himself down on a peeling faux-leather couch. Ellen perches on the elbow of it's partner and folds her hands over her lap, staring at him softly. "What's up?"

"Well," Cas begins, unsure as to where to start. "I was wondering if- no, first; you know how Sam has recently married?"

Ellen smiles. "Yeah, 'course. I was there."

"Right," Cas nods. "Well, at the end of the wedding John pulled Dean aside and talked to him. I don't know what he said, but when Dean returned he was rather shaken up. He hasn't told me what's wrong, but... Well, last night, when we got home, he collapsed into tears. I had to console him as best I could- I thought it was just the alcohol, but- but he said some things that were... _concerning_." Castiel takes a deep breath. "What do you know about Dean and his father?"

Ellen shifts, looking suddenly on edge and uncomfortable. "Well, there's a touchy topic."

Cas waits while she gets up, scooting around to face him while sitting in the opposite chair. She sits as if she is about to divulge some top secret information. In fact, in a way, she is.

"When Dean was younger, stuff was complicated between John and the boys." She begins. "John was away a lot, so was Mary. The boys were shipped off to friends places a lot, and sometimes left alone. I never agreed with two kids being all alone, not in this cruel-ass world, so I took them in as often as I could. John put a lot of strain on Dean in his younger years, always leaving him to care for Sam. Always making him the man, y'know?"

Cas nods.

"Well, anyway, fast-forward a few years and Dean's hit his teens. He was- _is_ \- quite the stud, y'know." She grins slyly at him. "Had all the girls after him, caught a few, too. But then one day he brings home a guy. And not your regular football dipshit- a real, genuine guy. I can't remember his name, it was ages ago, but he was a good kid. Liked to read. Kinda scrawny, very cute..." She sighs. "You kinda remind me of him, actually. A bit older and broader, but there's something similar about you." She pulls a face, "Not in a weird way. I hope you're ok hearing this?"

"It's fine." Cas feels his heart flutter. He's not sure how he feels about this information, but he knows he wants Ellen to continue.

"Anyway, I was mindin' the boys at the time. John was away on this big business trip abroad with Mary. Dean brought this guy home and, long story short, he told me they were dating. I was thrilled, of course. I told them I was happy for them and all, and everything was great. They went out for a month or two before we got the call. John was coming home.  
"Dean looked mortified- John was early, see? And Dean, well... John's a very- how should I put this? He's a very _closed-minded_ man. Dean begged me not to tell his daddy about him and the boy, and I swore I wouldn't- Jo did, too. Sam, of course, wouldn't breathe a word, but..."

"But what?" Cas' heart is pounding in his ears.

"Well, I dunno the full story, Cas. But John found out and Dean and the boy broke it up. There's been tension between the two Winchester's ever since. I mean, there was before, but then it was like two bulls banging heads. You could physically feel the strain whenever they shared a room." She sighs, looking immensely sad all of a sudden. "Then Dean went blind and John practically abandoned the boys. Y'know, he never even visited Dean in the hospital? Rumour was he blamed Dean for the accident. I don't know what's going through that mans skull sometimes. He's a good fella, John, but he's also such a dick." She smiles miserably at Cas. "I think Dean should be the one to tell you the rest, Cas. I don't know much, anyway."

Cas feels stunned, mulling the information over in his head. So, Dean has had a past relationship with a least one boy. And John wasn't happy? There's obviously something sour between John and Dean, but Cas didn't need Ellen to tell him that. Still, he's just learned an awful lot. How does this relate to now? Is Dean scared John'll do to him what he did to the other boy? Is he worried that Cas will have to leave him? Castiel isn't entirely sure at the moment; all he knows is he's not going to lose Dean. No matter what.

"Thank-you, Ellen." 

"Anytime, kiddo." She smiles, pulling him in for another, tight hug. "I hope that helped. If you boys need anything, I'm always here, okay? I hope everything is fine with Dean."

"Thanks," Cas replies, sincerely. "Me too."

* * *

"Well, it all began when we were kids, I guess..." Dean swallows down his nerves, his hands twitching. The memories hurt, he'd buried them for so long. He hadn't even told Sam the full story, and he tells Sammy _everything_.

It goes like this...

 

Dean was 19, Mallory was in his class at the college he attended at the time. Dean was some kind of hotshot who was automatically sorted into the 'jock' faction without any actual consent. Mallory was a raging 'nerd' who tried hard to fit in, but got shut down at every opportunity. They were such a stereotypical teen novella couple, and they loved it.

Dean had asked Mallory out first, trying to pass off as casual as possible, and failing. He'd tried leaning on the table, curving his shoulders to look Mal in the eyes, and wound up slipping and collapsing to the floor. Mallory had lent him a hand, and as Dean was hoisted up, he asked the athletically thin; glasses-wearing; dark haired; unconventionally hot boy out. They dated from then on, kissing behind bleachers, in the back of Dean's (dad's) car. Going to the movies. Dean couldn't remember being happier.

Mal's favourite place ever was the little coffee shop just off of Main Street in the town he lived in, the next one over from Dean's. The coffee shop was called 'Heavenly Brew', and the storeowners made the best hot chocolates. Honestly, Dean was never disappointed, no matter who served him. He figured they must cast a spell on all employees, 'cause that shit was top-notch. All cream and marshmallows and perfectly rich. Mallory preferred coffee, though, which Dean always thought was a shame. Now, when he thinks about it, Mal never actually got to try the hot chocolates at his favourite place in the world...

They were sitting in that very café, in fact, when Dean got the call.

"Yup?" He'd answered the phone. Mal'd smirked at him over the rim of his mug, eying Dean with those gigantic blues.

"Dean?" Ellen's voice was tight, nervous.

"What's wrong?" Dean'd sat forward, shooting Mallory a concerned look.

Ellen paused, Dean could nearly hear the hesitation. "Your father's coming home."

And with those four words, Dean's whole world shattered. " _Shit_."

"What do you want to do?"

"Don't tell him," Dean swallowed, he felt like he was going to hurl. He really didn't want to lose his hot chocolate, it was so warm in his tummy. "Do _not_ tell him, Ellen, _please_."

"Of course not, kid. Where are you now?"

"HB."

"Of course," Ellen'd sighed, the sound distorting in the receiver. "Look, just stall as long as you can. Does Mal know the situation?"

"Yeah." He did. Dean had told Mallory about his father- the guy'd deserved to know what he was getting into.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Mallory's eyes were swimming with concern.

Dean held a finger to his lips as Ellen talked. "Dean, just don't worry, okay? I'll handle this, just relax."

They'd hung up and Dean'd turned to face his boyfriend, swallowing down bile. "It's my dad."

"Oh, no." Mallory breathed. "Oh, no..."

"Yeah." There he went, choking on his voice. Dean hated crying; and no matter how much he trusted Mal, he hated his boyfriend seeing him cry. "Yeah, and I don't..." He'd swallowed, looking the other boy right in the eye, "I love you, Mal."

"I know, Dean. I know," Mallory got up, going around Dean's side of the table to hug him tight. Neither of them cared that anyone passing could see. They always sat at the window, never really caring much for what people thought. The window seat was Dean's favourite. "I love you, too, Dean. So, so much. And I'm not going to lose you, okay. _I promise_."

"I know." Dean'd sighed brokenly.

"It's going to be okay, Dean."

It wasn't. John found out and cracked the absolute shits. It turned nasty. Dean had to go to the Emergency room. Ellen was screaming, Sam and Jo had to evacuate the house. 

And Mal...

You never hit a kid that isn't your own. That's not okay.   
Dean remembers shrieking at John, pleading him not to touch Mallory.

"For fucks sake, dad, don't touch him! This isn't his fault! Please, dad! _Please!_ "

"You fucking faggot- you turned him soft!" John'd roared. There was fire in his voice, malice in his eyes. He was so far gone it scared Dean half to death. "My boy ain't no cocksucker, you get that you piece of shit? If I catch you 'round again, I swear to the all merciful Lord, I _will kill you_."

Mallory'd walked away with a black eye and broken heart. John was serious, Dean knew it. When he's in a rage, he loses all self-control. He'd kill Mal- and probably Dean, too. He was just like that. Out of control. Bent.

They met in secret the next day. Dean couldn't stop peppering kisses all over Mal's bruises, uttering endless apologies.

"Stop saying sorry." Mal had said. He was crying.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Dean could hardly see; hardly talk, hardly breathe without pain. John hadn't been messing around.

Dean hated him.

He _hated_ him.

"Mal, I'm sorry." Dean bit his lip, face screwing up with tears. "I can't be with you."

"What?" Mallory had been so hurt. He'd reeled back like Dean'd struck him. Dean's words had hurt him more than any of John's blows, and Dean knew it. "We- we can still be together, Dean. In secret. He won't know. He won't catch us. We'll... We'll run away! We'll go somewhere no one will bother us, and I'll make you happy, Dean. I promise I will. I'm not giving up on you."

Dean had wanted that more than anything. He had. He'd wished for it more than anything.

But the world was not a wish granting factory.

John had given him a choice, a very clear ultimatum: Be with Mallory and risk everything, or guarantee Mal's safety. Dean didn't want either of them to get hurt, so he'd chosen.

"We can't, Mallory." He'd said softly, steeping forward, kissing the words onto the other boy's lips. "I'm so sorry. I love you, Mal. I do."

"Don't say that." Mallory'd shaken his head, closing his eyes to Dean. "Don't say that, not when you're pushing me away." He'd pulled back, shoulders hunched and head drooped. He hadn't raised his eyes to Dean again, just turned his back, hands shoved into pant pockets and hood pulled tight over his ears. Dean watched him go. He'd wanted to call out to him- call him back.

Dean returned home; cried himself to exhaustion. Until he couldn't feel anymore- not pain or sadness, nor the sensory memory of Mallory's lips or his, or the flutter of his breath on cold afternoons when he'd laughed into Dean's neck. Until his was numb.

Sometime during the night Dean'd awoken with a jolt, and new conviction set in his heart. He was no quitter.   
Mallory was The One- he knew it. He wasn't going to let him go. Not for the world. Not for all the risks.

The next day he was filled with some new euphoria, courage coursing through his veins. Maybe they could pull this off; run away. He was willing to try. For Mallory, he was willing to do anything. He'd headed for Heavenly Brew and sat in their window seat- their favourite seat- and ordered himself a hot chocolate and Mallory, and texted him. He was surprised Mal wasn't there already. He kept glancing around every time the door opened, expecting his blue-eyed wonder to blunder in any second.

He got a call.

Mallory's body had been found in his room. Suicide. He left a note for Dean.

He never read it.

Dean left the next day.

He sped his way out of that town faster than light, without so much as a glance in the rearview mirror. He took the Impala and Sam and sped right out of the fucking place. He never looked back, not once.

He was blinded the next year.

 

Castiel is stunned into silence. He can't speak, can hardly breathe. Dean had begun sobbing halfway through, and was now curled up in his arms, gasping.

"Dean, I..." Cas whispers. _I don't know what to say_.

"I loved him so much, Cas. So damn much. I thought I'd never love anyone again. And now there's you and- I dunno. When I heard you, I kind of..." He sniffles and sits up a little higher. "You reminded me of him. I could feel him in that place. There was you and I almost... For a moment it was like..." 

"Like he was there." Cas finishes for him.

"Yeah, but then I got to know you and you became your own person- you were to begin with, I know, but then I started seeing _you_ , not you and _him_. I- you need to understand that I don't love you for him, Cas. Don't think that. Of fuck, please don't think that, it's not like that." Dean begins rambling.

"I know, Dean." Cas pets his shoulder reassuringly.

"I didn't speak to dad again. Not until a few months back. I hated him. It was his... It was all his fault. He killed Mal, Cas. I fucking hated that bastard so much." He draws a shaky breath. "But now I see that I was the one that killed Mallory. I made the choice. I broke his heart, and I'm just so scared because... because..." His lip trembles violently. The the floodgates open and there's nothing Cas can do to stop Dean from disintegrating into tears once more. "He gave me another choice and I just- I just _can't_ , Cas. Not again. Not with _you_. Oh, fuck. I can't stop it. There's this thing inside me and I just, I just. My- my _eyes_..." Dean begins to babble incoherently and Castiel has to hold him tightly to his chest to stop him from thrashing about and injuring himself. "I want to see. I want to see again so badly, you have no idea! I want to see you, and Sam, and the world and-!" He swallows, levelling his voice, now hoarse. "There's no point if you have to go. I don't want to see a world without you, Cas. I really don't."

Cas bites back tears. They always seem to wind up here, the two of them sitting on the floor, crying.  
Castiel doesn't care, as long as they're together. He's not letting Dean go. Not ever.

Not _ever_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mallory is a unisex- but often categorised as feminine (despite our Mallory being a guy)- French name meaning 'ill-omened', 'unlucky', 'unfortunate', etc.  
> Yeah.


	15. A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Jess Skype from London on Sunday afternoon, the next day...

Sam and Jess Skype from London on Sunday afternoon, the next day.

"Hi, guys!" Jess squeals the second Dean presses the green phone symbol.

"Hey, Jess." Dean grins, his face lighting up with the soft blues of the computer, his glasses reflecting their image.  Hannah is curled up on his lap, purring contently. "Hey, Sammy."

"Hello, Jess and Sam." Cas smiles warmly, leaning on Dean's shoulder.

"How're you guys?" Jessica's voice sounds muffled by the quality of the software, but her excitement is still easily decipherable between the little hitches in connection. 

"Good," Dean nods. "We're good. But, hey, we're not calling to chat about us- how's the honeymoon?"

Sam pops into the centre of the screen, leaning forward from where he'd been relaxing against the sofa. "You want the PG version? Or the nitty gritty details?"

"Oh no! No, no, we do _not_ want to the details!" Dean waves his hands repulsively at the screen. "Spare us, please!"

"Well, did you know honeymoon suites have silk sheets?" Sam grins maliciously.

"Sammy, no-"

"And wine in heart shaped coolers! And rose petals- which were a little uncomfortable when we-"

"No!"

"What, don't you want to hear about all the s-"

"Sam Winchester," Dean uses his sternest 'dad voice'. "Don't you dare say it!"

"-ex we've been having?"

"He said it." Dean groans, giving Cas a resigned look.

" _Sam,_ " Jess playfully slaps her husband's arm. "Stop it!"

"Make me." Sam smiles, staring into her pretty eyes.

Cas and Dean shift uncomfortably for a moment while the lovers share a deep kiss, which apparently is Jess' way of making Sam shut up. 

"Okay, loverbirds, break it up." Dean snaps his fingers at them and they break apart, smiling apologetically. "Tell us about the trip."

The couples spend the next 2 hours chatting, laughing and exchanging details about their past day. It's only been something like 36 hours since they last saw each other and, yet, so much has happened. Dean and Cas leave out their troubles, only giving Sam and Jess the good news, or little white lies they'd agreed on. They don't want the newly weds to worry. Not when they're supposed to be enjoying such a special moment in their lives.

"How's Bones doing?" Jess asks curiously.

"He's good." Castiel replies. "Dean and I visited the puppy school the other day, he seems happy."

"Awesome!" Jess wrinkles her nose in an adorable, excited manner. "Dean, I reckon you guys will be best buds."

Dean nods, "Yeah."

"Bones'll be ready for the next stage when you guys return." Cas continues. "So you'll get to see him and Dean in action."

"Cool!" Sam beams. "Oh- hey! I've been meaning to ask, has dad been in contact?" Sam asks, sitting forward to address his big brother.

Dean stiffens, his jaw clenching. "No."

"Oh," Sam looks a little disappointed, dipping his head. "I thought maybe- after the wedding..."

"I'm sure he'll pop back down for a visit with Mary when we return." Jess chimes in, sliding a hand over Sam's shoulder. "I'm sure he misses his boys."

"Yeah." Sam nods, smiling a little and placing a giant paw over her dainty fingers.

"Yeah." Dean mutters, distantly.

"Well, uhm..." Sam coughs, flicking his wrist up to glance at his watch. "Look, man, I'd love to chat a little more but we should probably head off."

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dean nods, snapping out of his little trance. "Okay, brother. I'll let you go. See ya, Jess."

Jess waves and blows a kiss.

"Keep him outta trouble over there, yeah?" Dean winks, eliciting a laugh.

"Sure thing, Dean." Jess smiles.

"We miss you." Sam rolls his eyes at his brother and wife. "You too, Cas."

"Take care, Sam." Cas nods, grinning.

They hang up a moment after, Dean gently closing the lid of his laptop.

"I do miss him." Dean drops his head. "I really do."

"If it's any consolation," Cas brings a hand up to pat Dean's arm. "They both looked great."

"I wish I could see them."

"You will."

Dean's head gives a little shake.

Cas sighs and drops his hand. Dean's mood had been so down today, he could almost physically feel the weight of Dean's self-pitying. It's not that he doesn't sympathise with his boyfriend- of course he does. He just wishes Dean would cheer up a little. There's still hope, he just needs to...

_'Open his eyes'_ probably isn't the best terminology.

"How about a walk?" Cas suggests, shuffling over to the coffee machine.

"Don't you have work?"

"We've got time." Cas sets two mugs on the bench. "Can you pass the coffee?"

Dean's hand waves out, reaching towards the bench. "Where?"

Castiel mentally slaps himself. He's so used to people just chucking the bag of ground beans to him, even after all this time with Dean. He pins it on the fact that he works at a coffee shop. Still, he should know better.

"Uhm, a-a little to the left. Left. Up- uh, just forget it." Cas scoops up the bag, Dean's hand a good metre to the right of the bag and way too high to feel it sitting snug beside the microwave. "Got it."

"Fuck." Dean hisses. 

"There's no need for profanity, Dean." Cas pours the coffee into the mixer.

"Sure as shit there is." Castiel hears him mumble in reply as he makes his way up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Cas calls.

"Why do you care?"

"Dean-"

"Just make your coffee and go to work." Dean orders flatly, slamming the door in the wake of his words. Castiel feels a sharp sting in his chest, and his hands shake a little as they set the buttons on the machine. Good Lord he's irritable today.

 

"Afternoon, Steve!" Nora calls as he pushes through the door, the tiny bell above the hinge tinkling sweetly. The place is as warm as ever. Someone is sitting in the window seat, and Castiel has to resist the urge to ask them to move. Ruby is behind the counter, so that answers the question as to who he'll be working with this shift.

"Hey, gem." Cas smiles at the younger girl, looping his apron around his waist.

"Hey, angel." Ruby replies, winking at him. They'd had the nicknames since the first day they'd met...

_"Ruby, like the gemstone?" Cas had said._

_"Yeah." Ruby had replied. "What's your name?"_

_"Castiel."_

_"Sounds biblical."_

_Cas had laughed. "It is."_

_"Seems fitting, you're kinda angelic." Ruby had squinted a little at him, giving him a once-over._

_"Uhm, thanks?"_

And the names have stuck; Angel and Gem, the dynamic coffee-making duo. Though Castiel hasn't seen much of Ruby lately, so the friendly banter has consequently died down. It's a shame, he kind of misses the old days.

"What's been up?" Ruby continues, swirling a simple pattern into the latte she's making.

"Oh, just... Stuff."

"I never see you anymore." She passes the glass to a customer with a smile, then twirls around to face him. "Why?"

Castiel shrugs. "I guess I've just been busy."

"With what?"

"Stuff."

Ruby rolls her eyes and emits a soft groan. "Oh, Cas, you are ever so mysterious."

"All celestial entities are."

She smiles then, turning to scoop up a muffin and bag it for the next in line. "How is he?"

That catches Cas off guard. "Who?"

"That spunky looking piece of ass and shades."

"I... don't know who you're referring to."

Another eye roll. "Aw, Cas, we all know. Nora spilt the beans, but we had had our suspicions anyway... What's his name, again? Dan? Derek?"

"Dean." Castiel replies flatly. "His name is Dean."

"Yeah, right." Ruby puts a hand on his shoulder. "He's cute. Haven't seen him around, though."

"Why would you?"

"He used to come in here everyday, remember? Pining for you. Man, we got a laugh out of that."

"He's been busy lately." Castiel steps away from Ruby to go handle a customer whose coffee 'wasn't hot enough'. He doesnt understand the girl's sudden interest. Maybe she's just trying to make conversation? It has been a while since the pair caught up- Castiel had changed his schedule after getting together with Dean so that he could spend more time with him, changing his shifts away from Ruby. Still, she seemed to be particularly nosey today, and Castiel doesn't like it. The invasion of privacy is making Cas uncomfortable.

"You do remember I knew him before you did, right?" Ruby mumbles when he returns to her side, slightly exasperated with the rowdy customers.

"What?" Castiel frowns, brow creasing into little wrinkles. He's so confused. Why are girls so confusing?

"Yeah, I used to date Sam, remember?" A small smile plays over her lips, her dark hair falling over her face. "We were serious, so of course I met his brother. We didn't get along."

"Hang on," Castiel whips around to face her. "You _hate_ Dean! You met in the coffee shop a little while ago. You were so mean to him-"

"It was the first time I'd seen him in ages, okay? He tell you what he did? He was an asshole, but," a sly smile creeps it's way onto her lips. "He's changed you, and it's kinda for the better. Besides," She waves her hand. "Past is in the past, I never remember a guy for long."

"Why did you pretend to not know him just now?"

"I wanted to see how defensive you'd get about it." She grins devilishly. "The more defensive, the more head over heels our little angel is."

Cas glares at her. " And excuse me? What was that about changing me?"

"Well, you used to be kinda boring and... _Stuff_. Now you're happier. It's nice. Besides, I've gotten over Sam now, so-"

"He got married recently." Castiel blurts, fighting the urge to clap a hand over his mouth.

There's an awkward pause.

"I know." Ruby sighs, ducking her head. "I was invited, but I didn't- well, it would've been awkward, y'know? But I'm happy for him. She's lovely, apparently."

"Yeah, Jess is."

The conversation dies a little, as does the rush of customers. Castiel takes a moment to lean back against the counter, sighing heavily. Ruby busies herself with wiping the bench tops and re-stocking the machines.

"The fireplace is dying." She calls over her shoulder.

Castiel takes the hint and snatches up a pack of matches and a few small cuts of wood. The grating is hot when he goes to remove it, so he gloves his hand and tugs at the black metal quickly, pulling it away and tossing the planks onto the incandescent coals, the bright burn of fire still struggling beneath the sheet of black. He lights a match and drops it strategically into the centre, stoking the fire with the metal prong. Soon, the furnace is roaring with life, crackling pleasantly, emitting a welcome warmth. Castiel sits for a moment in front of the fireplace, staring dead-eyed at the flicker of orange-and-yellow.

"Ruby..." Cas mutters when he hears her approaching.

"Hm?"

"What was he like?" Castiel turns to her. His eyes sting a little from sitting before the flames, watering unintentionally. "Dean, when you knew him."

"Well," Ruby drops down beside him, sitting back on her hams and wrapping her arms around her knees. "He seemed like you're average 'cool guy', right? Cocky, arrogant, kinda funny, kinda hot..." She screws the side of her mouth up. "But, when no one was around- and I only met him a few times, mind you- he seemed a little sad. Like, when he thought no one could see him, he would show his true colours. I always thought he seemed nicer when he wasn't pressured into being a dick. We were younger then, though. He might have changed." She glances at Cas. "Sam said he'd been through some real shit, didn't tell me what, though. He worried about his big bro."

Castiel nods. "When did you date Sam?"

"Uhm, I dunno? We were in college... 2009, I think.  Or 2008... We dated for a little over a year before Dean-" She cuts herself short. "Dean decided he didn't approve."

"I'm sorry." Cas feels a little guilty, not that he really should.

"No, its fine. It wasn't right, we just couldn't see it. It's funny, a blind guy could see what was wrong when we couldn't. I guess we take people for granted, huh?"

"Yeah." Cas sighs a little. "Hey, what's the time?"

Ruby flicks her wrist up, glancing at her watch. "3 o'clock. Is you shift over?"

Castiel raises to his feet, groaning a little as his muscles tense in protest. "Yeah, I think I'll go, now."

"See you 'round, Angel." Ruby smiles and half-hugs him, pulling away to go serve the business man impatiently standing at the counter.

"Goodbye, Gem."

 

Castiel has a plan.

He half-walks, half-jogs his way home, a small grin plastered on his face. His coat flares out behind him, flapping in the wind and his hair tousles itself, falling into his eyes.

He's going to make Dean smile again.

"Dean!" He calls, slamming the front door behind him. "I'm home."

There's a soft thud, then a pad, pad, pad as Dean makes his way down the stairs. He's grown quite accustomed to Castiel's apartment, and can now navigate his way through the place quite efficiently on his own.

"Hey, Cas." Dean appears at the top of the stairs, sounding more chipper now than he did this morning, but still not grinning that broad smile he usually does when Cas comes home.

"Get down here." Cas orders cheerily.

"Why?"

"Just get down here. And mind the stairs!"

Dean grumbles, stepping cautiously down the set of mini-cliffs. "I know, mother. No need to remind about the stupid stairs..."

Castiel doesn't hear him, however, as he has already disappeared into the kitchen. He fishes around in the cupboards for the wooden basket his mother gave he one Christmas. It's made of woven wicker, lined with bright red material with a massive handle and pockets that open at both ends. 

"A-hah!" He cries triumphantly when he finds it, buried at the back of the bottom cupboard beside the sink. He tugs it out and places it on the bench, sliding over to the fridge and pulling out some apples and the jug of lemonade.

"Cas," Dean's leaning on the doorframe, arms folded. "What are you doing?"

"Surprise."

"Cas-"

Castiel drops a loaf of bread onto the bench and starts spreading peanut butter and jelly over the individual slices, wrapping the sandwiches up in cling wrap. He makes six, three each- or, more likely, five for Dean, one for him. He piles the food into the basket, making sure not to squash anything. He then scoops up his camera, tucking it away inside the basket, wrapped protectively in his spare coat and the checked blanket. Everything seems to be in order as he scours the kitchen, making sure he won't leave anything behind.

"Alright," Cas finally sighs. "Where're the keys to the Impala?"

"Sam said he left them on the hook." Dean frowns at him. "Where are we going?"

"Surprise." Cas repeats, picking up Dean's jacket. "Arms up."

Dean obeys, stretching his arms out like a scarecrow and letting Cas wrap a coat and scarf around him. He also lifts his legs for Castiel to slip his shoes on, obedient despite his mood. " _Cas_ ," He whines a little. "Tell me."

Cas simply ignores his childish pout, pecking his cheek as he pulls him out the front door and to the car, opening the door for him. "Just put your belt on and shut your mouth."

Dean huffs, but pulls the safety belt across his chest and sits back in his seat. "I don't like secrets."

"It's not a secret, Dean, it's a surprise!"

Dean crosses his arms. "Don't like those, either."

Castiel smirks. "You will."

The engines roars to life, purring as they roll out of the driveway and down the road. Castiel takes a left at the intersection, heading away from the town and down the path less travelled. The trees whip by them, civilisation falling behind as they slip away into the arms of nature, the only man-made interruption in sight being the windy road in front of them. Cas switches the radio on, playing soft music and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at Dean. His boyfriend still looks a bit miffed, but occasionally hums a little when a song he knows wafts through the speakers. They drive in perpetual silence.

 

"Alright," Castiel hoists the handbrake up and shuts off Baby's engine, cutting her low rumble as he extracts and pockets the keys. "We're here."

"Where's here?" Dean asks as he tilts his head, trying to hear something familiar, a give-away of some kind. He's met with silence.

"Hang on." Castiel steps out of the car, breathing in a deep sigh as the cooler air hits him, embracing him. He jogs around to Dean's side and opens the door for him.  
Dean screws up his nose as an unfamiliar smell hits him. It's clean and fresh, the smell of wet earth and pine and the sound of the soft rustle of leaves. He hears birds chirping in the distance, calling to each other melodically. He feels the kiss of woodland air, still and slightly chilly. He purses his lips, turning to Cas. "Are we in the woods?"

Castiel smiles. Dean isn't mad, or even condescending. He seems, if anything, pleasantly surprised. 

"Yeah, Dean. We are."

"Oh." Dean nods. "Why?"

"We're having a picnic."

That elicits a small smile. "That's nice."

"You think?"

"Yeah," Dean nods, wrapping an arm around Castiel's waist. "I like picnics."

"Good." Castiel steps forward and Dean follows suit, moving his hand down to grasp Cas'. The latter leads him through the forest, warning him when rocks or fallen tree trunks interrupt their path. They wind deeper and deeper into the heart of nature, the birdsong constant company to them as the traipse through the woods. Eventually Castiel stops, just as Dean begins to hear the trickle of a stream.

"Here." Cas turns, tugging the blanket out of the basket and throwing it over the debris of dead leaves and pinecones that litter the forest floor.

"By the stream?"

"It's pretty." Cas sets the basket down and helps Dean get comfortable. "I mean, I know it's all the same to you but-"

"No, no," Dean smiles, a real, honest-to-god smile. "If you like it, then it's fine."

Castiel returns the smile and hands Dean a sandwich. "PB&J." He says, unwrapping his own and taking a bite. "Hope you don't mind."

"Nah." Dean sinks his teeth into it, chewing generously before swallowing. "Why'd you do this, Cas?"

Castiel waits to swallow his own food before answering. "Well, I though you needed to get out. We both did. And I thought a picnic would be nice."

Dean nods, but doesn't say anything.

Castiel leaves him be for the moment, passing him another sandwich and pulling his camera out to snap a few pictures. He was always quite keen on photography, but never very good, nor very motivated. He'd bought himself a good camera a few years back when he was going through a phase, but he didn't continue the passion. The camera had some really good shots on it, too, but it was left to collect dust.

Until now.

Castiel had been overcome with some extravagant idea. He'd start photographing everything. Everything. So, when Dean's eyesight returns- and it _will_ return- he can catch him up on all he's missed.

Starting now.

He focusses the lens on a pretty black bird flitting in the high branches of a nearby tree, catching it as it perches on the very top branch, tiny feet curved around the bark. Then another snapshot of the stream, the tall pines adding depth to the backdrop. He turns the camera to Dean, who's sprawled on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding his second sandwich. He has a relaxed look on his face- neither a smile, nor a frown, nor particularly bored or neutral. His glasses are dark in the dim light, shading over those pale green eyes. Castiel presses down on the button and captures the moment, treasuring the way the shadows of the woods splay over Dean's form.

"I didn't know you took pictures, Cas." Dean mumbles, breaking Castiel's concentration.

"I didn't. Not really." Castiel clicks the cap over the camera and puts it down. He shifts to rest his head on Dean's chest, folding his hands over his stomach. "I did a while back, but the phase kind of died. I thought I'd get back into it."

"You any good."

"That's debatable." Cas laughs.

Dean smiles again, his cheeks dimpling as his lips pull back to reveal his sharp, straight teeth. "I love you."

Castiel feels his heart flutter in his chest, a fuzzy warmth spreading from his belly to the tips of his fingers. Dean says 'I love you' a lot, but it's often different. It's unique and pleasant each time, in a different way. This is one of Castiel's favourite 'I love you's. He can't explain why it's so special, it just is. 

It just _is_.

He rolls over briefly to plant a kiss on Dean's lips, relishing in the second-hand peanut butter and jelly taste. "I Dean you."


	16. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Describe it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progressing... Progressing...  
> Slowly, we're progressing...
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the update! Let me know what you think.  
> Thank-you so much for bearing with me and my slow updates, and coming this far with me. It means so much. Thank-you all.

"Describe it."

"Well... It's wet, Dean."

Dean scrunches up his nose. "Go figure... It's a lake, Cas, of course it's wet! But, what does it _look_ like?"

"Kinda... Lakey?"

Dean slaps lightly at Castiel's arm, the movement rocking the boat slightly. "You're the worst at this, y'know?"

"Thanks."

"Seriously, Cas. The only way you can describe the place is _'wet and lakey'_?"

"It's blue."

Dean chuckles, his head tipping back. Castiel watches from the corner of his eye, smiling to himself. He's gotten progressively worse at describing their surroundings to Dean. He thanks God for the camera strapped across his chest.

"It's blue..." Dean mimics in a soft voice, shaking his head. "You're an idiot..."

"Well, I hardly need to describe things to you. I've got the camera, you'll see them soon enough."

Dean's mouth pinches slightly. "Yeah, I guess."

Castiel folds his bottom lip under his teeth and glances nervously at Dean. His boyfriend is still incredibly touchy on the whole sight subject, and it's causing moments of unnecessary tension between the two.

Still, things have picked up since Cas' brilliant picnic plan. Dean had sucked it up, stopped mopping so much. They'd been going out more; Cas had picked up extra shifts at work, now content to leave Dean to his own devices for a while every second day. Today, they'd borrowed Benny's boat.

"I still can't believe we're doing this." Dean laughs, reclining back in his chair. "What the hell was Benny thinking, letting us borrow his boat? You have no idea how to drive a boat, and I'm no use."

"There's an instruction manual."

Dean snorts. "How helpful," He lowers his voice to a low grumble which Cas assumes is supposed to be mimicking him. "' _Ah, yes... let me just take my eyes_ _off the water and let go of the steering wheel to read this unnecessarily thick, boring book about boat parts_ '."

"Shut up, Dean." Cas whines. "I'm not that incompetent, I can drive the boat."

"You're only saying that because you know I can't argue with you." Dean points out.

"Well, we haven't crashed yet."

"And if we do sink the ship, which one of us will float on the door and which one of us will freeze to death?"

Cas rolls his eyes. "Dean, there are no ice burgs in Hampsonfield Lakes."

Dean grins cheekily, "You never know!"

Cas shakes his head at his partner and turns his eyes back to the window, staring out over the large expanse of blue. Benny'd driven them down to the Lakes first, so they could get a feel for the boat before taking her out onto open water. Cas had assured him that he'd be careful, and thanked him profusely for letting them borrow his beauty. Benny had shrugged his shoulders and nodded with a kind smile, explaining that it was good for Dean. Cas had spent the whole night beforehand reading up on how to operate boats. It wasn't big, but he certainly didn't want to sink it. Dean had some knowledge himself, tucked away from days when he, Sam and Benny used to go fishing on lazy summer afternoons. However, his know-how was mostly useless without his eyesight.

"Did you pack food?" Dean interrupts their brief silence. "I'm starving."

"There's food in the cooler."

Dean twists around in his seat, flinging an arm out to feel the space behind him. "Where?"

Cas sighs internally. "Just hang on."

Dean stills, waiting as Castiel cuts the engine and lets the boat drift. He steps away from the steering wheel and retrieves the deep blue cooler box from the back of the boat, hoisting it up onto one of the empty seats. He pulls out a pack of crackers and cheese and passes the snacks to Dean, who perks up a little when he smells them. 

"Yum!" Dean licks his lips, peeling the wrapping away from the pre-cut cheese.

"Is that enough?"

"Got any beer?"

Cas knew that was coming. He pulls out a bottle for Dean and tosses it to him, grabbing himself a can of soda. He pops it open with a hiss and takes a large swig, gulping the bubbles down before they have a chance to come through his nose.

"Show me what you're doing." Dean mumbles. Cas turns to look at him, sitting there with an expectant look on his face, shades casting shadows over his cheeks.

Castiel shrugs his shoulders at himself and puts his can down, moving to stand at the wheel. "C'mere, then."

Dean stands, coming up beside him. Castiel begins to explain what he's doing, pointing things out and sometimes taking Dean's hand so that he can feel the controls for himself. Cas explains to the best of his ability, even though it's sometimes pointless to gestures at things.

"Sounds like you did your research." Dean laughs, patting Cas on the back. "Good job, bud."

Cas blushes and rolls his eyes at him. "Thank-you, Dean."

Dean smiles warmly and sits back down, taking another sip of his drink. "This is nice, Cas."

Cas nods, letting his shoulders relax. They chug along for a little bit, quiet and relaxed in each other's company. Castiel pulls the camera up at random, snapping pictures of the view, the boat, and- mostly- Dean. The silence is blissful, massaging the tension from their shoulders, working the knots from their muscles. Castiel can't remember the last time either of them has breathed so easily.

Then the phone rings.

"Hello?" Dean puts the device to his ear, his brow furrowing.

Castiel pauses, glancing at him quizzically.

"Dad," Dean swallows thickly and a heavy weight settles itself in Castiel's stomach. "Hi."

"Dean," Cas whispers. "What is it? What does he want?"

Dean holds a hand up to him, still frowning. "Uh huh, yeah... Yep... Dad, that's- No. No, of course not, but-" He sighs heavily, lips trembling. "No, sir."

"Dean?"

"I'm not- I can't right now, John... I know, I'm sorry. Yes... Okay, I'll be there. Yes, I know the way." Dean slips his free fingers under the rim of his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. "Yes, sir. I'll see you there."

Cas stares at him as he hangs up, his head cocked to the side and worry lines tainting his features. "What did he want, Dean?"

"I have to go meet him." Dean rocks forward, resting his elbows on his knees and sighing shakily. "Can you take us back?"

"But, Dean-"

"Please, Cas." Dean sounds strained. "I can't argue with him."

Castiel nods solemnly and twists the wheel, his heart sinking to drown in the waves below.

* * *

Mary places a platter of fresh cookies in front of him, along with a glasses of homemade lemonade. "I hope you like choc chip!"

Cas smiles politely and takes a treat, turning it over in his hands. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Winchester."

"Oh, please," Mary waves a hand at him, her sunny smile a grave contrast to John's dark frown. "Call me Mary, dear."

"Apologies, ma'am." Castiel nods. He takes a bite of his cookie, his taste buds singing as the perfect combination of creamy chocolate and sweet biscuit hits his tongue. "Your cookies are outstanding, Mary."

"Thank-you very much, Castiel." Mary smiles at him again, her golden hair falling in ringlets to her shoulders, hardly showing the greys threading between them. "Dean adores them, so I thought I'd bake a batch for him. You're welcome to as many as you want, though. I'm sure he won't mind."

"You're very kind." Castiel returns her smile.

"Well, any friend of my son is a friend of mine." She turns back to the shelves and continues stacking freshly cleaned plates.

_Friend. Friend of Dean's_.

Castiel purses his lips, placing the cookie down, his appetite suddenly lost.

Shouting is heard from the next room, and Mary and Cas both shift uncomfortably. The situation is tense, the very air around them sizzles with electric rage.

"Have you lived here long?" Cas inquires, hoping to break the ice.

"Oh, yes. Many years. We moved when Dean was 4."

"That's quite some time." Cas raises his eyebrows. He'd only been in his own apartment 3 years himself. 

Mary nods. "Well, we're comfortable here. It's a good neighbourhood and we've got friends. We moved after the last place burnt down."

"Burnt down?" Cas' eyes pop. "Dean never mentioned that."

"Well, he was very young." Mary's hand stills. She glances at Castiel with an odd look in her eyes, dropping her towel to the counter and leaning towards him.

"You can't tell him I told you, but..." She bites her lip, hesitant. "Dean was the one who started the fire."

Castiel's stomach knots uncomfortably. "What?"

Mary nods, solemn. "It started in Sam's room. I almost... Well, he was four, who can blame him?"

"How did he start a fire?"

"Well, I don't know." Mary sighs. "I remember hearing him in Sam's nursery- Sammy was a baby at the time, see? And I came in and there was an explosion of sorts, I nearly hit the roof. Then there was a fire." Mary looks a little traumatised, as if the ghost of the incident still lingers. "I got hit with a bit of shrapnel. 23 stitches on my stomach," She gestures. "Killed the baby."

Castiel's entire being goes rigid, freezes. His heart skips more than one beat. "Baby?"

"I was pregnant at the time." Mary sighs. "Ridiculous, really. Sammy was only 6 months old and I was already carrying another child. It'd only been a few weeks, but still..." She looks away, swiping at her eyes. "No one likes to lose a child. Of course, I nearly died myself. And we lost the house. John told Dean to take Sammy outside and went after me, refused to leave me behind. I begged him not to blame Dean, surely it wasn't his fault, but... Well, there's been tension ever since." She sighs. "I don't hate him- either of them. I love them more than anything in the world, my boys. What 4-year-old deserves to be treated that way by his father? John blamed him for everything. I don't know what happened while I was in hospital, but when I got out, my little boy had changed."

Cas fights to digest this new information. The intricate web that is Dean's life just keeps getting thicker and more detailed. Patterns forming here and there, glistening strings dancing and tearing and springing anew. "Is that why they have such a tense relationship?"

"That among other things." Mary bites her lip. "Can you keep a secret?"

Cas nods.

Mary leans back in, barely whispering. "Dean likes men."

Castiel feigns surprise. " _Really_?"

Mary nods, blonde curls bouncing. "I'm not sure if he's told you. He tells very few people. It's just... I saw you two dancing at Sam's wedding, and I thought you ought to know. I'm sure your relationship is purely platonic, but Dean may not see it that way."

Mary is gorgeous, inside and out. Heart and hair of gold. Great personality. Loving, gentle and sweet. Great cook.

But a complete moron.

It appears she can't see a gay relationship if it wedding dances in front of her...

"Oh..." Cas fights to find words. "Well-"

Dean storms into the room, flanked closely by John. Both their faces are red and their hands are trembling. Castiel looks to Dean first, concern blooming within him, which swiftly turns to dread when he meets John's icy gaze. The alpha Winchester damn near growls at Cas as he passes him, heading towards the front door and opening it. "You're such a fucking disappointment." He hisses at Dean in a voice very similar to Dean's, when he's mad. Very mad. A calm rage; one that chills to the bone.

Dean's jaw tenses, like he's physically biting down the words threatening to spill from his mouth. Mary gasps and brings her faintly wrinkled hands to her mouth. "Oh, John! Please, don't use such language."

John snarls and steps away from the door, heading back down the hallway to stand in the kitchen. Dominance radiates off him, a dark cloud looming over the sunny little kitchen at his mere presence. "Mary, do you know what this boy is? What he's doing?"

"John-"

"He's throwing it all away! What good is he to me blind? We got back after a year and look what's happened! He's a fucking fag, Mary. I thought he'd grown out of that phase, but no! Him and that-that _thing_ right there. Brainwashing! Well, I've had it. He's been living off of our backs for far too long! No more money, no more help. No more communication. If he ain't willing to listen to me, then I ain't giving him nothin' to listen to!"

Mary looks stunned. She exchanges a glance with Cas; pity, shock and pain staining her glassy eyes. "John, surely there's no need to..." 

John touches her arm as she begins to sob, retracting his hand immediately when she flinches away from his touch. He steels himself and turns to the two younger men, glaring at them like he's willing them to drop dead. "Get out of my house." He turns to Dean specifically. "Get out of my life."

Cas feels rage flare up within him and he fights the urge to drop John right there. Instead, he grasps Dean's arms and leads him to the front door. He hears John shout after him, but his ears are ringing so loud he can't comprehend a word the man's saying. Dean follows obediently after him, frighteningly quiet. Castiel can sense the numbness overcoming his boyfriend. Dean's preferred form of coping: numb out the pain. 

They reach the Impala and Cas quickly closes Dean's door after him, ducking into the drivers seat and igniting the engine before anything more can happen. It occurs to him that the car is, in fact, John's. He pulls out of the driveway as quickly as possible, hoping to escape before the same thought occurs to John. They're racing down the street seconds later, the engine roaring louder the more Cas pressures the accelerator.

A strangled sob sounds beside him.

* * *

Dean doesn't utter a word for 2 whole days, and Castiel's stress levels go through the roof. He calls Sam and subtly tries to coax help from him, careful not to reveal the situation to the newlywed. Nothing he says is much help, and Cas feels himself begin to lose it before Dean finally speaks to him.

They're curled up on the couch, where Dean has been spending most of the passed 48 hours. The TV provides white noise in the background, the kettle steaming on the bench and the clang of Castiel's teaspoon against his mug ringing in Dean's ears. He twitches and Cas looks to him, hopeful. 

"Dean?"

"He's not going to do it."

Cas shuffles forward, placing his mug carefully down on the coffee table. "Who? Do what?" He prods, gently.

"Da-John. He's not going to, uhm..." Dean breathes deeply, curling forward to nuzzle his head into Castiel's shoulder. "He's not going to help me get my eyesight back."

Castiel's blood runs cold, despite this news being rather unsurprising. He says nothing, waiting for Dean to further explain, but not pushing him to speak.

"That's what he called me for." Dean continues. "He wanted us to go all the way to fucking Kansas so I could tell him in person just how much of a disappointment I am."

"Dean, whatever John said, you're not a disappointment."

"I am to him. 'Course, he was hoping I'd made a different decision. He wanted to know if-" Dean pulls away, touching Cas' cheek lightly with the pads of his fingers. "He wanted to know if I'd agreed to his terms. Y'know, the Castile-Or-Eyesight ultimatum."

"Surely you could have lied, Dean." Castiel feels guilt twist his stomach. This is all his fault. _His_ fault. "Surely, just long enough to get your eyesight. Then maybe, I don't know... It would've been too late. You would've gotten your eyes, and John wouldn't have been able to take those back."

"He would've." Dean's voice is so low, so dark, it sends shivers down Castiel's spine. "He would've. I don't even want to think about what that bastard would've done, but... Fuck, Cas. I couldn't let this happen again." His hands fist Castiel's shirt. "Not to you, too. Not again."

Cas ignores the near-physical shattering of his heart as he gently caresses Dean's back, hushing him quietly. "It won't happen again, Dean. It doesn't matter. We'll find some other way."

"How can we, Cas? It's so expensive. We could never afford it, not with nothing but your measly coffee shop shifts. I couldn't... I couldn't ask you to do it, Cas. You shouldn't have to pay for my eyes. I can't ask that of you."

"Dean," Castiel takes him by the shoulders, looking him in the eyes and hoping Dean understands how serious he is without seeing it. "I'm more than happy to give you anything you need. Anything. Whatever it is."

"No, you shouldn't. I shouldn't do this to you." Fresh tears rolls down Dean's speckled cheeks. "I've been nothing but a burden to you, Cas. Why don't you just let me go? Forget me, man. Look at me! I'm a mess! I never used to be like this. This isn't me. You don't deserve to have to put up with this mess."

"Dean, if you're trying to break-up with me, it's not going to work."

Dean hiccups. "Why?"

"Because you're asking me to leave you while we're sitting in my house. What am I going to do? Walk out my own door?" Castiel laughs, slightly bitter, but more or less sincere. "Oh, no. No, you're stuck with me, Winchester. As stuck with me as I am with you."

Dean sniffles. "Really?"

"I swear to God, Dean Winchester, your self-pitying will be the death of me. We'll find a way, Dean. Together."

"Together..." Dean echoes.

Castiel smiles and pulls him in for a tight embrace. "That's right."

"Well," Dean mumbles, his voice muffled by Castiel's chest. "If we're going to do this together, can I ask you a favour?"

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Get yourself some better aftershave, will ya? If I have to spend one more second with that wet dog smell stuck in my nostrils, I'm leaving you for real."

Castiel laughs. Real, chest-heaving, belly burning laughter. "I'll make a memo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mary is super OOC; at the time of writing this, Mary hadn't (SPOILERS) come back to the show yet, so her (very different) personality hadn't been developed. Just a note :)**
> 
> ***John is quite OOC, too. This is for narrative purposes. You don't have to like it/agree with it. I'm not asking you to. Just bear with me, yeah? Isn't it worth it for all that sweet angst? (nope...)***
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	17. Job Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You look just fine."  
> "Well, I can't tell now, can I?"

"You look just fine."

"Well, I can't tell now, can I?" Dean pouts, his hand coming up to fiddle with the knot of his tie. Cas scowls and bats his hand away, adjusting the bright green silk to sit right again.

"Just trust me. Now, deep breaths." Cas pauses. Dean takes his cue and breathes in once, quite deeply, and exhales long and gentle. "Good," Cas continues. "Just relax. Be yourself. You know what you're doing, so do it."

Dean nods his head, slowly at first, before morphing his movements into a vigorous shaking. "I don't know what I'm doing, Cas."

"Shh," Cas grips his shoulders firmly. "You will."

 

 

Dean doesn't.

The office at the local shrink is clean-smelling and feels cold, despite lacking the obvious breeze of an air conditioner. Dean taps the tip of his stick nervously against the linoleum floor, the clock hanging on the far wall ticking persistently, as if taunting him. His ears ring with it's echo, and his heartbeat begins to match the rhythm of the second hand.

"Winchester?" A voice calls from the left. "Dean Winchester?"

Dean tips his head in their general direction and tries to force a nervous smile. "That'd be me!"

"This way please." The person- female, judging by their voice- must motion in a certain direction, because there is an awkward pause in which no sound is made.

"Um," Dean clears his throat. "Where, sorry?" He taps his glasses. "I can't, uhm..."

"Oh." The woman, who must've been waiting for him to follow her direction, stuttered coldly. There's the muted sound of her heels clacking  on the floor and suddenly an unbelievably soft, cold hand clasps his. "This way."

Dean is lead to the left, following the woman out of the room. The familiar faint echo of a hallway surrounds them, and then there's the opening of a door.

"Here's the next one, ma'am." Ice Woman says, then her presence leaves the room, abandoning Dean to face _Ma'am_  alone.

"Take a seat, Mr. Winchester." Ma'am says.

Dean shuffles, his hand waving out before him until it meets the back of a chair. He manoeuvres around it, movements jittery, and sits down. The woman at the desk shifts her weight, the chair creaking beneath her. There's the shuffle of papers, and then she speaks.

"Mr. Winchester," She begins, her voice commanding but soft. "May I call you Dean?"

Dean gives a soft shrug. "You may."

"Dean," She places her hands on the desk; Dean can tell by the nasty, plastic tap of her manicured fingernails on the glass. "What brings you here to Halos?"

Dean swallows, trying to recall the fake conversations he and Cas had run through. "Well, ma'am-"

"Naomi." The woman interjects.

"Naomi," Dean acknowledges her, filing the name away. "I just have a real passion for helping others. I figured, with my condition, I'd be able to connect with patients on a level others may not. I would love to impact people's lives the way others have impacted mine. Be something good in someone's crappy life, y'know?" He strains to not sound sarcastic or fake, which, unfortunately for Dean, tends to be his default tone.

There's a tense silence, and then; " _Really_?"

Dean swallows thickly and grins broadly. "Yeah."

"Funny, because your files here tell me otherwise, Dean." Naomi has the kind of demeanour associated with a cinematic Math Teacher from Hell. Or a librarian. She speaks like she knows all your dirty little secrets, her words belittle you and the very air around her seems to threaten: _'One slip-up and I'm dragging you down into the fiery depths with me'_.

All of this is incredible ironic, considering she works for a place called 'Halos: Community Angels'.

"Really?" Dean says, trying to fake surprise.

"Male; 29- born January 24th. POB: Lawrence, Kansas. 6"1, Brown hair, Green eyes, Blind. Sounds like you, right?"

Dean nods.

"Previous employment: Dean Winchester passed his senior year and acquired his high school diploma. Was accepted into a local college. Studied mechanics until he dropped out under unexplained circumstances. Worked part-time at a local Walmart during high school. Part-time as a janitor as a college student. No other employment history is provided." Dean feels her gaze upon him, despite not being able to see it. "I bet you only just scraped through your senior year, didn't you, Winchester?"

Dean doesn't like her. Not at all. She makes the hairs raise on the back of his neck, and his stomach knot uncomfortably. "What would you know?" He bites back.

Naomi tuts, scuffling papers nearly drowning out the sound. "Frankly, you don't look like you've amounted to much, Dean."

"Well, I haven't really had the chance."

"How'd you loose your sight?"

Dean's taken aback by the question. " _Excuse me_?"

"Your sight. How did you loose it?"

Dean grits his teeth. "That's really none of your business, _ma'am_."

Naomi snorts. "Well, _sir_ ," She stands, her shoes- rubber soled by the sound of them- softly click-clacking on the floor. "I would ask you to have a look around and see what kind of establishment we're running here, but..." She laughs, low and malicious, too close to Dean's ear for his comfort. "That's obviously out of the question."

"What the f-" Dean catches himself, breathing deep. "What is your _problem_?"

"Dean, I look at you and do you know what I see?"

Dean shakes his head. "I really wouldn't have a clue." He says earnestly.

"No, of course you wouldn't." Naomi hisses. Dean grips his stick tightly, containing the urge to hit her. "I see a man who's afraid of commitment. Who lives in the moment and damns the consequences. I see a man who doesn't have a plan, who can't decide for himself. I see a man with no potential. I see someone with no future. In fact, I don't see a man at all. I see a foolish little boy." She pauses, as if taking a moment to relish in the sting of her words. "Do you really think I'd let someone like you council this community's hurting? Influence it's youth?"

"No." Dean says coldly, standing slowly and turning until her perfume smells the strongest. "And you know what, ma'am? I wouldn't want to. Not if I had to do it through a fake smile, wearing a name badge and collared shirt that reeks of _this_ joint." He gestures widely around the office.

Naomi doesn't say anything. Doesn't speak. Dean lowers his glasses a little- just a little- and lets his eyelids slide open, fixing her with his most chilling glare. Then he leaves, tapping his stick out in front out him and feeling his way out of the complex. He refuses to be aided. Not by them. 

 

The next interview doesn't go much better; _"Blind people can't stack shelves I'm afraid, son."_

 

Or the next; _"Can't you get funding or something?"_

 

Or the one after that; _"I'm sorry, you're just no use to us."_

 

Dean's feeling pretty shit by the time he's done with his 18th interview.

He isn't asking much. Just a minimum wage for part-time work. It doesn't have to be exciting; it just has to pay him a little, give him something to put in the Sight Jar. He can't expect Cas to save up enough to pay for his own mortgage, bills, food, fuel and then all of Dean's expenses on top of that; and then save for the operation on top of _that_.

He can't. He needs a job.

Dean and Cas have talked about moving in together, saving expenses. Sam and Jess will be getting their own place when they get back, and Dean can't pay for his own house. But even with shared expenses, Dean has to actually contribute something. John's so pissed, Dean isn't sure he can count on him at all anymore. He does get a monthly check, but it's hardly enough. He's been considering selling Baby, but he just can't bring himself to do it. Bones' training is straining them, as well, but Dean can't let go of the mutt just yet- not before they've even started.

Dean wishes it was the same as when he was a kid. Money was no problem. People were no problem. He had his sight, and his brother, and his wild imagination. They'd been heroes together; nothing could stop the Winchester boys.

But then reality had swooped in like the fucker that it is and crushed his little boy dreams. Dean Winchester grew up and life grew hard. Dreams are for those who can afford them- and that's not Dean.

A loud shout interrupts his self-pitying thoughts and Dean starts, nearly dropping his stick. "What the _fuck_?"

"Goddamn idjit." A gruff voice growls somewhere to his right. Dean hears a metallic wheezing, and then the taste of gasoline fills his mouth. 

The gears in Dean's mind turn, a diagnostic already presenting itself to him. If there is one thing on this godforsaken planet that Dean knows, it's cars.

"Excuse me, sir." Dean turns, hoping he's talking to the right fella. From what he knows, there's a car with a broken carburettor on the side of the road and a pissed off guy Dean can help.

"What the hell you want?" Comes an abrupt reply.

"Well," Dean leans out, feeling for the bodice of the vehicle. "Look, I couldn't help but notice you've got a dud carb and I thought I could help."

"Know somethin' 'bout cars d'ya?"

Dean smiles. "A little. Can I take a look?"

"Sure, if you... can." The man seems a little confused, and Dean doesn't blame him. He does ignore him, however, and feels his way down to the hood. He can taste the fuel in his mouth, and it's not right- the balance is wrong. His fingers dance around the insides of the vehicle, feeling their way around.

"Can you pass me a wrench, please?" Dean holds out a hand. A cool metal piece slaps into his palm and he utters a quicks 'thanks', ducking back under the bonnet. He twists away a little, moving as if he was born to do this. Forget eyesight, Dean's senses have never been so attune. It's as if the car is speaking to him; like a sick animal to a vet. He resists the urge to speak to it, ask it what's wrong. He finishes, stepping back with a satisfied look on his face. "Give her a go."

There's a scuffle, the creak of a car door, and then the engine roars to life.

"Well, shit." The Gruff Man mutters, cutting the engine. "You did it."

Dean resists a smile. "I guess."

"Don't be modest, punk." The man says, Dean feels a hand slap his shoulder. "That was impressive."

"Thank-you." Dean nods politely.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Well, cars are just my thing, I guess."

"I'll say." There's the rustle of material and a slight breeze, Dean guesses the man is shifting a cap on his head. "Are ya really blind?"

"Well, this ain't a guise." Dean gestures to his gear. "Yeah. Can't see shit."

The man laughs. "Well, I'll be darned..." He mumbles.

Dean smiles again before turning, extending his stick. He takes maybe three steps forward before the man calls him back.  
"Wait!"

Dean turns. "Mm?"

"Bobby." 

Dean frowns, "Pardon?"

"My names Bobby, ya idjit. Bobby Singer. I'm holding my hand out to ya, son- you best shake it."

Dean chuckles and extends his hand, sweeping it to the left slightly before colliding with Bobby's with an audible clap. "Dean Winchester."

Bobby grips his hand and shakes it firmly. "Say, I could really use a hand 'round here."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Here?"

"Oh, yeah," Bobby releases his hand and clears his throat. "This here's my garage. Look, ya don't hafta, but... See, I got next ta no help and a lotta vehicles and I could really use a guy like you. Man who knows his stuff."

"Are you..." Dean doesn't dare hope. "Are you offering me a _job_?"

"Yeah, if yer interested. I'll pay, too- don't worry 'bout that. Whatcha say?"

"Well," Dean can't believe it. Literally can not believe it. He blinks a few times, digging his nails into his palm just to be sure he hasn't just fallen asleep during Interview 19. "Yeah. _Yes_. A-absolutely. Yes."

"Good." Dean can hear the smile in Bobby's voice. "You got a way for me to contact you?"

"Oh, yeah." Dean pulls a pen and notebook from his back pocket. Cas had given the stationary to him as a way of communication in times like this. Well, not _this_ exactly. "Here. Just write everything down and my partner can organise it for me."

Bobby takes the pen and pad and scribbles something down. "I'm sure glad you waltzed by when you did, kid."

"Me too." Dean grins, taking the paper off Bobby and slipping it back into his pocket.

"I'll catch you 'round then, Dean?"

Dean nods and gives a small wave, "Thank-you, sir." Turning, he begins walking back up the road.

He takes it back; today isn't so bad, after all. Dean could have sworn angels were watching over him.

 

 

"Cas? Castiel!" Dean bounces through the door with a loud clatter. "Cas!"

Swift footsteps pat around the corner. "Dean?"

Dean leaps forward, encircling Cas in his arms and hoisting him up, spinning them around. "Guess what!"

Cas giggles, hands gripping Dean's shoulders. "What?"

"Guess, you lazy ass." Dean mocks, a sly smile creeping across his lips.

"You got a job?"

Dean laughs, once. Then again, his chest feeling light, as if a weight has been suddenly lifted from it. "Yes!"

"Oh, Dean!" Cas ducks down to plant a kiss on Dean's lips as he places him gently down. "I'm so happy!"

"You'll never guess where, though, Cas! You'll never guess!"

"The Psychology clinic?"

"Fuck no, Castiel." Dean waves the thought away like a bad smell, screwing his face up. "That place was awful. No, no..." He takes a deep breath. "Come over here." He leads Castiel to the couch and plonks himself down, petting the place beside him until he feels Castiel join him.

"Tell me!" Cas sounds so happy, it makes Dean want to cry.

"Okay, so I was walking home after No# 18 and-"

"You got rejected from _all 18_?" Cas gasps.

"Yes, but- just listen, will you?" Dean shushes him, reaching up to pull his hands from where he knew they'd be, clasped over his mouth. He entwines his fingers with Cas', brushing them gently. "I was walking back home from 18 and I heard this loud ass bang. Scared the shit out of me and- okay, so I'm good with cars, right?"

There's a pause, then a slight giggle. "Oh, I just nodded. Yes, you're good with cars."

Dean can't stop smiling. "Well, I recognised the sound, and the smell and taste, and I wandered over. Basically, this guy had a shot carburettor and I helped him fix it. This guy- Bobby Singer- he was pretty impressed, I guess. He offered me a job at his garage. A garage, Cas! I get to work in a garage! He's gonna pay me and everything! I got the details here, so..." Dean fishes the notepad from his pocket and hands it to Cas.

Castiel pauses and Dean can hear the faint mutter of his voice as he breathes the words out loud while reading. "Oh, Dean." Castiel chokes. "This is good. This is really good! Dean, I'm so _happy_!" 

Arms fling around Dean's neck and he buries his face in Cas' shoulder, his hand fanning out between his shoulder blades. "Yeah, Cas. Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright...  
> As you may have noticed, I wrote this chapter from Dean's sort-of perspective.  
> How did you feel about that?  
> Do you want more? Or should I just stick with writing from Castiel's? Another character?  
> Let me know! I want you guys to enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoy writing it :)


	18. It Really Is Quite A Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean calls Sam 3 days later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> Smut at the very end of the chapter- you can skip it without missing any important content, if you wish.

Dean calls Sam 3 days later.

"Sam." His younger brother answers, his tone casual-formal.

"Sammy, I've had this phone _how_ long and you still can't recognise my number?" Dean snorts.

"Oh! Dean." Sam huffs out a laugh. "Sorry, man."

"Doesn't it come up with my name when I call?"

"You might've had your phone since the dawn of time, Dean, but my phone is new, remember?" Sam's tone is mockingly condescending, and Dean pouts at it.

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Sure, but then this is going to be a very pointless call."

"Urgh, screw you." Dean rubs his middle and forefinger on his temple. "Where's Jess?"

"Uhm..." There's a pause. "I dunno."

"You've lost your wife already?"

Dean can hear Sam scoff. "No. Shut up. She's just out getting groceries, I think."

"You think?" Dean grins, yanking at Sam's chain.

"It's not like you've never lost Cas before." Dean can _feel_ the bitch-face.

"Cas isn't my wife, Sam." Dean chuckles. "And I'm blind, in case you've forgotten, so I have an excuse."

"Excuses, excuses..."

"It's gotta have some perks, don't it?"

There's a moment of silence, heavy and hesitant.

"Dean," Sam begins, slowly. "Speaking of blindness-"

"Oh!" Dean slaps a hand to his forehead. "God, I nearly forgot why I called you in the first place!"

Sam's tone switches immediately. "Oh, so it wasn't just to check on your darling lil' brother? I'm hurt." He sounds offended, but with words spoken through a smile.

"Sam, I got a job."

Sam whoops. "Oh, my god, Dean! This is great! Where? Doing what?"

"At a garage down the road."

"A garage?" Sam's voice quirks up at the end. "How an earth did you land that?"

"I helped a guy out, he gave me a job."

"Oh, don't be so modest you jerk, I know you did more than lend a hand."

"Zip it, bitch. I know my stuff, he was impressed, gave me the job. He didn't give a damn about the eyes, which was liberating considering what I'd been through with the previous interviews and-"

"Interviews plural?" Sam sounds dumbfounded. "Dean, how many interviews?"

"Yeah, uhm..." Dean flushes, biting his lip. "Cas had set me up for about eighteen places, here and there. I went to each one and they all... Well, I'm not the most talented bloke, y'know. I don't exactly have a glimmering portfolio or anything..."

"They can't turn you down for disability, Dean. That's ableism."

"Look, it doesn't matter." Dean puffs, done with discussing the intolerance of some people. Cas had already threatened to march his ass down to each and every office and give them a piece of his mind. "Bottom line, I got a job, which means-"

"You can pay for surgery."

"Yeah." Dean nods, picking absently at the hem of the curtain. The window radiates heat, so he guesses it's sunny today. 

"Dean, this is really, really good news."

"Yeah."

"Have you told dad?" 

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. "No."

"No?" Sam sounds genuinely surprised. "I thought you would've taken the opportunity to shove it right up his ass, considering what he did to you."

Blood pools into Dean's mouth. He releases the tender flesh of his cheek with a wince. "I'd rather if you didn't bring it up, Sam."

Sensing the urgency in Dean's mellow tone, Sam immediately backs off. Dean lets out a grateful sigh, relaxing the tension from his shoulders.

Sam coughs, clearing his throat and says, "Well, we'll give you a call once we make it to the airport."

"Won't it be too early? Your flight's at 3 am, dude."

Sam chuckles. "God, you really know jack shit about flying, huh?"

"What?" Dean tips his head.

"Time zones, man."

"What?"

"Time- ugh, forget it. We'll call. Say hi to Cas for me."

"Same for Jess."

Sam obliges and they hang up, Dean dropping the phone onto the windowsill and feeling his way down to the kitchen. Castiel's shift doesn't finish for another hour, which means he has a lot of time to mope around all by himself and reflect on his life and every wrong choice he's ever made. Fun. 

Dean pilfers one of Cas' chocolates from his 'secret stash' and cracks open a beer, dropping onto the couch with a relieved groan. His feet still ache from his shift that morning at the garage; having not worked in such a long time, Dean found being on his feet for so long to be incredibly tiresome. He drums a finger against the cool neck of his bottle, pursing his lips.

"Kinda let go of yourself, haven't ya?" He mumbles, petting his stomach. A soft layer of squish meets the press of his fingers and Dean rolls his eyes. It's too dangerous for a blind guy to go out jogging, according to Castiel: The World's Most Overprotective Boyfriend. Dean wonders if he'll be able to drag Cas out with him.

Feeling around a little for the remote, Dean flicks the TV on to add a little background music and takes a swig of his beer. His mind's still churning through everything that's happened the past few weeks. It feels like his whole life is just one big drama after another, and he often wonders if he's really some pawn in a crappy sit-com or shit soap opera. Like some Truman Show effect or something.

Sam and Jess are getting back tomorrow. That's nice. That's something to look forward to.

Bones is getting picked up from puppy school next week, Dean's ecstatic about that. Maybe with Bones around, Cas'll lay off him a little.

 

The jangle of keys and the familiar click of the lock awaken Dean from his thoughts, dragging him up from the couch and gravitating him towards the door. Cas steps through, swiping his shoes on the mat before kicking them off and hanging up his keys with a melodic jangle and shrugging his coat off with the whispering of fabric rubbing on fabric. 

"Hello, Dean." Cas sings, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders, warm breath caressing Dean's neck. "How was work?"

Dean smirks. "You enjoyed saying that, didn't you?"

"It feels admittedly good, yes." Can pulls back, one hand staying on his arm. "So, how was it?"

"Good." Cas' silence pushes Dean to elaborate. "Tiring, but good. I think I'm getting unfit. Why didn't you tell me, Cas? I rely on you to let me know I'm gaining pudge before I get to this stage!"

Cas scoffs, tapping Dean's forearm and shuffling passed him. "You're hardly pudgy, Dean."

"I can feel it." Dean taps his stomach. "Inside and out. I was running out of breath by the time I got home this afternoon."

"You're just unused to working some many hours on your feet." Cas calls from a distance. "Dean, have you been stealing my chocolate again?"

"Maybe." Dean drawls through a sheepish grin.

Cas huffs and there's the sound of rustling wrappers and the clanging of cupboard doors. 

Dean slinks into the kitchen, locating Cas as he buzzes around the benches and wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder from behind. "So, what's for dinner?"

Castiel hums, twisting his head to plant a kiss on Dean's temple. "I was thinking of making a pasta dish. We have extra packets in the cupboard for some reason.

"Sounds good." Dean nuzzles his nose into the seam of Cas' jumper, inhaling his scent. "You smell good."

"You suck-up, you." Cas laughs, pushing him away and reaching for the big saucepan.

"Not a suck-up, just madly in love."

"You're disgusting."

"Madly in Dean with my lil' Cassie-poo." Cas tsks, shaking his head.  
Dean joins Cas' laughter, receding back into the lounge and reclaiming his spot on the couch.

Dinner's ready half an hour later and they eat in relative silence, curled up on the couch while Cas watches some re-run of a show Dean can never remember the name of. Not Natural? Super Weird? He doesn't pay enough attention. There's a lot of screaming in it, though.

Later, they curl up in bed together, Dean wrapping his arms around Cas, their foreheads pressed together. Dean drifts off with a smile on his face, feeling lighter than he has in a long, long time (despite that extra padding he's convinced he's carrying).

* * *

"So, give us all the details." Dean leans forward, elbows perched on the table. Sam pulls back enough to avoid touching noses with his intrusive brother, and takes a deep breath.

"Well, where to begin..."

Jess wraps a delicate hand around his arm, grinning up at him. "The flight was nice." She starts.

Sam nods. "Yeah, pretty smooth."

"We watched movies."

"What was it?"

"Uhm... I honestly don't remember." Jess giggles.

Dean doesn't say anything, just inclines his head and silently prompts them to keep going.

"We were pretty exhausted by the time we landed." Sam says. "So we just headed straight for the hotel and-"

"Well, the next day was the beginning of the tourism!" Jess cuts in, smiling a little awkwardly. Dean smirks at them, but bites back a snide remark.

"Yeah," Sam slings an arm over Jess' shoulders. "So, the first place we went was..."

 

They sit for the next hour in the over-cramped Heavenly Brew while Sam and Jess fill Dean in on their trip, Cas watching from afar between serving customers and taking orders. He pauses at the table every chance he gets, getting snatches of  the story before Nora drags him off again to go clean up a spill or help Ruby cut down the line. It's particularly busying in the little coffee shop today, people piling in to fulfil their weekend caffeine needs. Castle curses the heavens quietly for his misfortune, having hoped he'd be able to spend a little more time in with the new Mr. and Mrs. Winchester if they came by his work. By the time Castiel's shift is over, Sam and Jess have finished filling Dean in on the honeymoon, and are now questioning him on his new job and all the other things they've missed while away.

Cas hangs up his apron and waves at Nora before making his way over to the little group, smiling warmly.

"You done, Cas?" Sam glances up at him.

"Yes, my shift's over."

"Yay!" Jess cries, scooting around Sam and dashing over to give Castiel a hug. She pulls back with a kiss on the cheek and bounces on the balls of her feet, almost reaching his height each time she raises up. "Where d'ya wanna go? It's great weather outside!"

Cas nods. "Yeah, it is. But it's up to you, Jess. Where do the pair of you want to go?"

Dean appears magically beside them, a hand on the small of Cas' back. "I was thinking about taking them to that forest and having a picnic."

Cas detaches himself from Jess long enough to turn to Dean. "That's a great idea!"

"Sounds good." Sam agrees from his chair.

"Well, why don't we head back to ours and grab some stuff and we'll all head out in the Impala?" Dean tips his head at Cas, _if that's okay?_

Cas whispers a yes, and the rest of them agree in unison. The group steps out the door, hand-in-hand like a chain of elementary school girls, into the sweet caress of sunlight and a smooth spring breeze.

* * *

Cas' camera bleeps and clicks, the still image of Dean's biggest grin and Jess with her head tipped back with laughter frozen on the screen. In the blink of an eye, it's gone and Cas adjusts his lens to snap another.

"It's beautiful out here." Jessica breathes, smiling bright as the sun. "How'd you find it?"

"My family liked to go on walks." Castiel mutters, taking another picture, this one of Sam, sprawled out over the rug with a lazy, dazed expression. "We found this spot while trekking once and have been coming here since."

"How lovely." Jess offers him a special smile before closing her eyes, raising her dainty hands above her head and breathing deeply. "Smells fresh."

"Mm." Dean hums, waving a hand around for the wicker basket packed with sandwiches. "Will you stop taking those goddamn pictures, Cas, and get your ass over here?"

Castiel snorts and clicks the cap over his lens, switching the camera off and tucking it carefully away in his pack. He makes his way over to Dean, walking on his knees, and passes him a sandwich from the basket before turning over and leaning his back to Dean's chest. He can feel his chest rise and fall with contented breathing, the steady beat of his heart gently pressing against Cas' shoulder blade. Absently, Cas picks up Dean's free hand and presses a small kiss to his fingers, nuzzling his knuckles before resting his hand in his lap, wrapped in his own. Dean sighs slightly but doesn't do anymore, contented to just sit with Cas in the warm spring air and listen to the sounds of nature undetectable to anyone else.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cas sees Jess and Sam exchange a look, but he doesn't question them about it. Sam stands after a while and wanders a little down the way to the creek, tossing twigs into the sparkling waters. Jess follows him, feet padding through the soft, green grass. It starts off innocently, but soon the forest is filled with their giggling as they start an all-out splash war. Cas chuckles and explains the image to Dean who, in turn, bursts out laughing. Dean's arms wrap a little tighter around Cas, his nose coming to rest on the spot between his neck and shoulder, sending thrilling shivers down the other man's spine, his warm breath brushing Cas' skin.

"I Dean you." Dean mumbles, mouthing the words with gentle presses of his lips into Cas' neck.

Castle's heart stammers in his chest. Dean's expressed his feelings a multitude of times to him, and, yet, he'll never quite get used to it. His voice sounds a little different each time; it's said unique to that moment, it means something new.

"I Dean you, too."

"I love your voice." Dean continues, still brushing the words into Castiel's skin with his mouth. "I like the feel of it in your chest, the vibrate of it in your throat. I like the sound of it in the morning, and the difference in the afternoon."

Cas isn't quite sure what to say, but it apparently doesn't matter as Dean continues.

"I like the feel of you. I like the shape of you. I like running my fingers over you and imagining you, mapping you out. I feel as though I can see you, sometimes." At this Dean runs his spread hands over Castiel's chest and stomach, tickling his sides. "I like your personality; the way you're stubborn as a mule, yet caring and kind. I like how you serve others, and put them before yourself, even if I wish you wouldn't sometimes." Dean laughs, his breath ruffling Cas' hair. "I like how you put up with me- and them," He nods in the direction of the newlyweds, still in hysterics, soaking wet. "And everything that comes with our messed up little family. I like how you've accepted me, and my parents, and my brother. I like how you don't care about my problems. I like how you know you can't fix them, but you try anyway. I like how you piece me back together without ever asking once for something in return. I can never thank you enough."

Cas pets Dean's hand. "It's my privilege, Dean."

"See what I mean?" Dean chuckles and shakes his head.

Cas frees his hand from Dean's, still held in his lap, and reaches into his collar, pulling out something small and shining, strung on a length of black cord. He take's Dean's hand and gently runs his fingers over the surface.

"Is that-"

"The necklace you made me, yeah." Cas smiles absently, stroking a thumb over the finished silver. "I wear it all the time, never noticed?"

Dean shakes his head, "No."

Cas replaces the necklace in his pocket, his hand coming back to rub up Dean's arm. "You've given me enough, Dean."

"I'd like to give you something else." Dean presses a kiss to the nob between Cas' shoulders, where his neck joins his spine.

"Okay?" Cas cocks his head, breathing deeply.

"Not now, though." A kiss behind the ear, warm breath on Castiel's skin. "Some other time."

Castiel furrows his brow, perplexed. He's about to ask Dean what he's on about, but then Sam's beside them, a drenched Jess at his arm, and they announce their desire to get home and... Uh, finish some _'unfinished business'_.

Cas laughs and gets up, pulling Dean up with him. "Okay, then, kids."

Sam scoffs and Dean snorts. They pack up the picnic- or what's left of it, Dean insisting on carrying most of the load back to the car. Jess' soprano laughter rings throughout the forest, echoing off ageing tree trunks and reverberating off worn boulders. Animals skitter about their feet, furry squirrels with big, bushy tails and troops of ants, marching two-by-two on an endless crusade. Dean whistles something tuneless and blissful, his shoulders relaxed and head lolling; Cas hasn't seen him so happy and relaxed in a while. Too long.

Sam and Jess wave good-bye, standing connected at the hip, hands a furious blur. Cas chuckles and sticks a hand out the window as he reverses Baby out of the drive and rolls off down the road. Dean has a dimpling grin on his face, one that seems to want to stay, persistent in it's brilliance. Cas flicks the radio on a cracks up when, of all things, _Unchained Melody_ comes blasting through. Dean turns his nose up at it at first, but even he doesn't have the heart to change 'their song'. His grin returns and he begins to sing along with Cas, occasionally actually bothering to hit a note. 

Castiel's heart feels light in his chest; airy. There's a buzz in his blood and a tingling in his stomach; not unpleasant, but present. He thinks it's happiness- the extreme kind.

Forget them, forget everyone. Screw it. They're here, and they're happy. Dean's his and he's beautiful. They're roaring down the street in his car, it's ancient engine purring beneath them, it's sleek, graceful form reflected in darkened shop windows. The sun is shining down on them like a giant halo, nearly as bright as their smiles and almost as glimmering as their eyes. Forget John and his bullshit, forget Mary, forget the shattered pieces of past, and the measly glob of glue they've been trying to piece themselves back together with. They've broken free, and there's no reason they should go back. Since when did Castiel Novak decide he did everything others told him to do; everything society thought he ought to? Since when did Dean Winchester let his inner glow dim; let his dark past shadow his bright, bright future?

Cas screeches into the driveway, nearly forgetting to hit the brakes and cut the engine before he's round Dean's side, dragging him from the car with a deep, breathtaking kiss. Dean's eyes widen behind the lens of his glasses, and when Cas isn't focussing too hard he can see the reflection of himself in them. He looks younger, flushed and free from his chains. He likes what he sees.

"Move." He growls, fisting Dean's jacket collar in his hand and pushing him to the door. Dean makes a noise, tries to speak- not protest, but perhaps question Cas' motives. Castiel ignores him.

They crash through the front door, Cas kicking it shut as he ensnares Dean in another kiss, his lips moving and moulding Dean's the way he likes. His hands roam over his shoulders and forearms, feeling the bulge of muscles beneath the worn brown of Dean's jacket. Dean's tongue grazes against Cas' bottom lip and Cas opens his mouth for him, turning the kiss into something deeper, dirtier. Castiel tugs at Dean's sleeves, dropping the jacket to the floor and stepping forward to press himself flush against him.

"What brought all this on?" Dean gasps, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Nothing. I wanted to." Cas whisper, low and sultry. "It's okay, right?"

Dean laughs. "Of course. Yeah. It's fine... Actually, could you hurry it up a little?" Dean emphasises his words by stepping back, pulling Cas towards the stairs with him. " _Please_."

Castiel smirks, his lips curling devilishly, and takes Dean's hand. He leads him up the stairs at a borderline-running pace, nudging the bedroom door open with his elbow. They stumble into the room and Cas makes short work of Dean's shirt, tugging his red-and-green flannel down his arms, and his t-shirt over this head. His jeans come next, Cas taking his time with the buckle of Dean's belt, sniggering at Dean's impatient whimpering. His button pops, fly undone, and then Cas pulls the jeans down Dean's legs, trailing his palms up the sides once his pants are pooled around his feet. He brushes over the bulge in Dean's underwear, and Dean's stomach lurches, breath hitching. A whine carries out with his exhale and Castiel helps him step out of his jeans before taking off his own coat and shirt, pulling Dean's hands to his pants so he can remove them. Dean leans forward, missing Cas' mouth and kissing to the side of his chin, grazing his lips over the stubble until he can find his target. Cas licks and nips at him, gentle yet needy, the way Dean likes it. 

They collapse onto the bed, already hot messes. Dean whines and pants, bucking his hips up to meet Cas'. With smooth, swift movements, Castiel removes Dean's boxer briefs, tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. He wastes no time, dipping his head to lap a teasing tongue over the head of Dean's cock, relishing in trembling grasp of Dean's fingers in his hair. He'd draw it out longer, if he wasn't already so far-gone. Castiel widens his mouth, slipping Dean in to almost halfway, swirling saliva around the smooth skin, mixing it with the dribbles of pre-cum leaking from his tip. Dean moans and Cas' heart flutters; nothing gets him quite like the sound of Dean in positions like this, and his boyfriend knows it.

Dean seems to regain a little control of himself, running his hands down the plains of Castiel's stomach, almost reaching the band of his pants. Cas shifts, sitting back so Dean can sit up and help him out of his boxers. Cas lets go of Dean's cock, sliding his mouth off the end with a faint pop, and comes up to kiss him. They sit for a moment, entwined together, hands exploring each other's bodies. Castle's fingers press into the expanse of Dean's back, slipping around the front to massage the slight pudge of his belly, the softness of his chest. Cas loves the little squish Dean has, thanks it's adorable, but his favourite is the hardness of his man's arms. Dean's biceps tense as a shiver runs down his spine and he drops his hands to Cas' lap, hand waving until he finds his harden cock, gripping it gently. Castiel gaps and grasps his shoulders harder, burying his face in Dean's neck and sucking a hickey into the freckled flesh. 

" _Dean_..."

"Yeah?" Dean breathes, hand lazily pumping Cas'.

"I love you."

That earns his a little squeeze, Dean's other hand moving to cup his balls. 

"Only 'cause I'm giving ya a hand job." Dean's words are slurred, staggered by needy breathes.

Cas snorts, bucking his hips into Dean's fist. "Well, no. But it is a- _ah_." Dean shifts his angle and pumps a little hard, hand massaging his balls in gentle circles. "Contributing factor."

"Mm hm." Dean hums, licking at Cas' jaw, kissing him.

"Are... we gonna?" Cas pants.

Dean pulls his hand away and Castiel's cock pulses in the absence of his grip, begging for his touch to return. Getting the hint, Cas walks on his knees over to the bedside table where he retrieves the lube and a condom. Dean's laid on his stomach when he turns back, a smile on his lips and glasses hanging askew over his nose.

"Still wearing these?" Cas chuckles and takes the glasses, folding them and putting them on the table. "Don't wanna break them."

Dean doesn't say anything, his eyes closed, slackened lids drooping. "You gonna get on with this? It's taking a fuckload of self-control not to just take care of it myself-"

"Yeah, yeah." Cas slaps his ass playfully, tearing the wrapper of the condom and rolling it over his length. "So impatient, babe."

"Oh, babe, eh?" Dean laughs, a kinda high wheeze. "You're so funny when you try to talk dirty."

Cas sneers and drops his body over Dean's, slotting himself into the curves of his ass and back and shoulders. Chest to Dean's shoulder blades, he leans his head over to Dean's ear, breath hot against the side of his face. "You wanna say that again, _babe_?"

Dean shivers, breath hitching. He reaches behind him, gripping at Cas' hip and whining softly, wriggling his own hips up.

"That's it, big boy." Cas purs, sliding back over Dean's body until he's kneeling behind him. "Spread for me, baby. That's a good boy."

Praise, Dean can't get enough of it.

Dean hoists his ass, thighs spread and hips on a sharp angle from his arms and chest.  Castiel pops open the lube and spreads a copious amount over his fingers, wrinkling his nose at the squish sound. He runs his dry hand over Dean's left asscheek, slipping up to grip his hip. "Ready, babe?"

Dean growls a yes.

He slots a finger in and waits as Dean relaxes himself, used to this process by now. It only takes a moment of pumping before Cas can insert his second, and then third finger. Dean wriggles and juts against him as they go, Cas scissoring him open wide, slipping in and out.

"Cas, it's good, it's good..." Dean pants, writhing, clutching at the sheets by his head. Cas can just see the side of his face, screwed up, teeth grit. " _Please_ hurry it up."

"Well, since you asked so nice." Cas licks his lips, anticipation coursing electricity through his veins. He coats his dick with an extra layer of lube, lathering up into he's slick and dripping, then he lines up. Dean gasps as his head brushes the sensitive muscle of his entrance. "Okay, just relax for me, baby."

Dean's legs shake as he tries to let go of the tension in his muscles. Castiel pushes in, about three quarters of the way, and waits a bit. Dean whines- _oh god_ the sound he makes. Castiel's dick twitches in him, body shivering with restraint. He just wants to pound into Dean right now. He wants to draw those shouts from him, hear him cry his name. He wants to grip at his trembling, sweat-shined back. He wants to pump his cock and feel it tense as he pours over his hand.

Dean mumbles something and pushes back against him, Castiel's length sliding further inside.

"What was that, _sweetheart_?" Cas leans over him, head cocked to the side.

"We've done this enough now for it to be fine, Cas." Dean gasps. " _Please_ , _just move_."

Cas obliges, rocking his hips once. Dean cries out, biting his lip to stifle the sound.

That won't do.

"Oh, no," Castiel brushes a finger over Dean's lip, drawing it from between his teeth. "Don't you dare. I wanna hear you scream, I wanna hear you say my name."

Dean moans, lips slackening. He sways back and Cas rolls his hips to meet up.

That's the last straw. After than they're pounding, moving as one. The bed squeaks beneath them, Dean bracing his hands on the bedhead. Castle's balls slap against his, his hand pumping over Dean's swollen dick. Needy pants, names on hot breathes and the liquid sound of sex fill the room. Cas feels the tension build in his gut, preparing for the end. Dean tenses around him, his body too slick for Cas to find a grip. 

" _Castiel_." Dean growls and Cas comes with a wordless cry, collapsing over the arch of Dean's back.

He doesn't pull out just yet, hand still working Dean's cock.   
"Come on, babe." He purrs, ignoring the exhaustion taking over him. "Come for me."

Dean moans. "I don't- the bedsheets..."

"Fuck that." Cas bites, latching onto his boyfriends neck and sucking a purple bruise into the tender skin. "Come for me, Dean. Be a good boy and _fucking_   _come for me_."

"Oh, my _god_." Dean's hands grip tighter onto the headboard, eyes crunching. "Oh, my god, hearing you swear... Oh, my g-" His words hitch in his throat as Castiel's quickened pace sends him over the edge, Cas' hand milking him with long, drawn pumps. Dean spills over the sheets, dribbling over Cas' fist. "Oh, _fuck_." He whines.

"That's it, babe." Cas kisses his cheek, pulling his hand away and drawing out. Dean collapses onto his front, gasping for breath. Castiel pulls the condom off an tosses it into the bin by the desk, wiping his hands on the bedsheets; he'll wash them later, clean up the place, but not now. He curls up to Dean's side, one arm tucked under his head and chest heaving.

"That was hot." Dean whispers.

Cas smiles and kisses his forehead before letting his eyes close and the sound of Dean's evening breaths lull him to sleep.


	19. Breaking It To A Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Speaking of breaking it to a guy... I think I'm gonna do it."

Dean's forehead is slick with sweat, that uncomfortable, inescapable kind of heat radiating from beneath his singlet. Bones bounds around his feet, the soft pitter of his paws against the concrete darting here and there. The radio crackles in the corner, Dean not bothering to adjust the antenna after he bumped into it and knocked it awry.

The garage is practically an oven today, it's tin walls incubating Dean as he toils away at the shot gearbox of a new model convertible.

"You still working on that thing?" Bobby's gruff voice projects from Dean's left, startling him out of his heat-induced haze.

"I was hoping to get it done before 5." Dean shrugs, tossing his wrench down and wiping his hands on the cloth dangling out of his back pocket, swiping a forearm over his brow.  Leaning back against the popped hood of the convertible Dean tips his head in the general direction of the ute that Bobby'd towed in that morning, apparently the brakes had just 'stopped working', but Dean smells a rat. "What's the verdict?"

"Yeah, they're cut." Bobby shuffles forward, the sound of his heavy mouth-breathing inching closer. Dean feels his body heat beside him, and subconsciously leans the other way a little. It's too damn hot, today. "I dunno how to break it to the guy." Body huffs, his elbow bumping Dean's as he crosses his arms.

"Hmm..." Dean hums absently. "Speaking of breaking it to a guy..." He shuffles, pushing off the car and standing, hands sliding into his pockets awkwardly. "I think I'm gonna do it."

"About goddamn time." Bobby has a permanently gruff voice, but Dean has known him long enough now to categorise the little changes in pitch, speed, et cetera. Bobby had become something of a father figure to him; a well of knowledge and age-accompanied wisdom, he is a great person to talk too, for Dean.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You've had the money for a while now, Dean." Bobby is closer now, Dean can feel his breath. A hand claps itself over his shoulder, reassuringly strong and sturdy. "It's time."

"It's just," Dean sighs. "I've been blind so long..."

Bobby blows the air out heavily between his lips. "Well, there's no guarantee it's going to work, anyway." 

"Gee, thanks." Dean swallows, shifting his weight. "If it does, I'm going to propose to him, Bobby."

That earns him a reaction. Bobby's hand slips abruptly off his shoulder, Dean can feel Bobby's eyes on him. " _About_ _goddamn time_ , ya idjit." There is a smile in his voice.

* * *

Dean had been working with Bobby for months. The spring had slipped into a sweltering summer, the skies ever blue and the grass washed-out yellow. Dean packs up his things, waits patiently for Bobby to harness a hyperactive Bones, and bids the older man farewell for the weekend. 

The path beneath him burns at the soles of his shoes, Bones' panting excessive and loud in the still quiet of a sleepy town. Bones stops and Dean follows suit, hearing the low beep of a crossing man. 

"Here, let me get that for you." A woman's voice to his right. Dean hears her press the silver button, the breeze of a car as it rushes passed his face.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Cute dog."

"Thanks." Dean didn't mean to repeat himself, his brain is just so scrambled from the heat. The woman laughs softly and waits patiently beside him for the light to go green, her perfume sweet and strong, wafting up Dean's nostrils and tingling his senses.

The rapid beeping starts up a second later and Bones leaps forward, dragging Dean forward. "Woah, easy there, buddy." He giggles at the dog's eagerness.

The walk home is quiet, not even the rustle of leaves in the still air. It is too hot for the birds to be out, preferring to take refuge in the shelter of their nests. Most people are lounging beneath the air con, sipping icy drinks and idly flicking through television stations. Dean starts jogging when the hill begins to stoop, pacing himself for the next 2 miles home.  
Little by little he's building himself up. Cas still isn't too happy with him going out jogging, insisting that the only thing more dangerous for a blind man than going out for a walk was going out for a run. Dean counters with the fact that Bones is with him, a fully trained graduate from puppy school. This never seems to quite reassure Cas, but it shuts him up, so that's enough.

Dean has begun to like his jogs. He takes them almost every morning, before the heat of the day sets in, and sometimes in the evening to relax before bed. He hated the pain in his chest at first, the burn of unfitness. His legs ached after each run, and his shoulders, too. But, after a while, he got used to it, and it's become a nice way to unwind.  
Bones likes the exercise, too.

Dean turns into their drive and fumbles for his key, getting the right one after the first few tries and opening the door to the sweet caress of air-conditioning and at least 3 fans.

"Honey, I'm home!" He hollers down the hall, letting Bones go to track down Cas and get his harness off, removing his own shoes and hanging his keys up. He's sweaty and filthy, he knows, which means it's the perfect time to wrap Castiel up in a big, smelly hug and manically laugh as he tries to wriggle away from him, moaning about the state he's in. "Cas! I'm home!"

There's movement in the kitchen, and the soft, sticky pad of feet on wooden floorboards as Cas approaches. "Good Heavens, Dean, I could smell you from the kitchen!"

"It's hot out there."

"Yeah, I know." Cas huffs, purposely keeping his distance from Dean. "You smell. Meet me in the kitchen after you've showered." His voice has that nasally quality one gets when they pinch their nostrils.

_Not so fast, Novak._ Dean grins wickedly and lunges forward, grasping at Cas' shoulders and encircling him in his arms. "Oh, but I'm so happy to be home and see you!"

" _Dean_!" Cas whines, pushing at his hands and tilting his head away from him, his voice dissolving into laughter as Dean wrestles them into the wall and lays big, messy kisses over his face, smudging oil stains over his nose and cheek. "You're a pain."

"Love hurts." Dean quips, releasing him and turning to the stairs, feeling out a little with his foot for the first step. "I'll be down in 10."

 

_Right is cold, left is hot..._ Dean repeats to himself as he fumbles for the tap, raising the shower head a little to accommodate his height. His hands are shaking, his knees rattling as he steps in, sucking in a deep breath. The water, slightly cooler than he'd normally have it, is refreshing and soothing on his heated skin. Still, not even the rhythmic drum of water droplets on his back can ease away the nerves sending shivers down his spine.   
He's going to tell Cas. He's ready to tell him.

 

Dean speeds through the remainder of his shower, quickly towelling off before throwing on a pair of loose cargo shorts (his only pair of shorts) and a thin-fabric t-shirt, making his way downstairs, hair still damp and dribbling down his forehead.

Cas is in the kitchen, the scent of something tangy hanging in the air. Dean hears the pitter-patter of multiple paws skittering over the tiles, Hannah's hiss and the rapid doggy pants from Bones.

"Are they fighting, again?" He steps into the kitchen, feeling the floor change from wood to tiles beneath his bare feet, and listens for Cas' response.

To his right Castiel replies, "They're just playing, Dean."

"Hm, sure." Dean snorts, stepping towards him and nearly tripping over the cat. "Ugh! Dumb cat." 

"She's not dumb." Cas responds defensively, Dean hears the jingle of Hannah's bell as Castiel scoops her up in his arms. Bones barks, feeling left out.

"Aw, c'mere, pal." Dean kneels and pats his knee. A moment later Bones' rams into him, all fur and slobbery doggy kisses. Dean laughs, ruffling his sleek coat.

"Yeah, yeah, boy. You agree with me, don'tcha?"

Cas huffs and Hannah drops down, bell chiming and paws padding over the floor as she escapes to the other room. Dean shakes his head, releasing Bones and standing, wiping bits of fur off his shirt.

"What're you cooking?"

"Rice." Cas replies, the bang of pots making Dean wince and rub his ear. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Dean drops his head, a spark of nerves fizzing in his stomach, tingling his chest. "Cas, we gotta talk."

There's a pause. "Okay. Do you want to sit down?"

Dean purses his lips, ducking his head and nodding.

"Okay, just let me- I'll let this simmer. One moment, okay?"

Dean nods again, too nervous to talk for fear of spending the last of his courage. 

"Dean," Cas' hand brushes his arm. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He doesn't sound convinced, but Dean's too caught up in trying to piece together what to say to comfort him. He's making this out to be a bad thing, but it's actually a good thing. A really good thing. Castiel has no need to worry, and yet...  
Dean's fear is getting the better of him.

Cas finishes a moment later and leads him by the hand into the lounge, helping him sit and taking his place beside him, hand still holding Dean's.   
"So?"

Dean inhales one final, deep breath. "So... I've been working for Bobby for... a while." He says, slowly.

"Yes."

"Well, the thing is," Dean scratches the back of his neck, guilty eyes hidden behind fog. "I've... got the money."

A beat of silence and then, " _Dean_!" Castiel is upon him, strong arms wrapping themselves around his neck and tender lips pressed firmly to his. "Dean! Dean, this is great! This is amazing! Why aren't you excited? You had me so worried!"

"Because I'm scared, Cas."

He pulls away, quiet, hands falling to his shoulders. "Oh, Dean."

"It's not- it's fine. I want to do this, I'm just..." Dean shrugs his shoulders, dislodging Castiel's grip. "It's been so long. Forget the surgery itself, I'm scared of being able to see. It sounds so stupid, because there's absolutely no reason to be. You'd think- you'd think I'd be thrilled. But, I'm just so scared. My blindness has become a part of me, and my identity, and I don't know what I'll do without it."  
Cas is respectfully quiet, listening.  
"It's selfish, too, because without my sight I rely so heavily on you, and Sam. This is my opportunity to lift my burden from your shoulders, and I'm reluctant to do it. I feel awful, Cas. Please don't hate me."

"Oh, Dean, you idiot." Cas presses a palm to his cheek, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I don't hate you. I'm not mad, and you're not a burden. It's perfectly normal to be scared, not just about the surgery, but about everything that comes afterward. But it'll work out, and we'll be here for you- Sam, Jess and I. You won't lose a piece of your identity, Dean, you'll gain something. Try to focus on the positives; you'll get to see Sam and Jess, and drive the Impala yourself, and go out for jogs without me fretting." Dean snorts and Cas chuckles. "And you can see the forest, and how ridiculous my HB uniform is, and the autumn leaves in the park, the snow in winter and the sky in summer, the flowers in spring. You can see yourself, and how beautiful you are-"

"I can see you." Dean whispers, touching his hand to Cas' face, tracing it with the pads of his fingers. "For real."

The heat of a blush. "Yeah."

"Okay, I'll think of that. I'll think about you, and Sammy, and the sky, and Baby, and the leaves in autumn, and the forest, and all those things I've been missing out on."

"Yeah." Cas says softly, brushing his floppy wet hair from his forehead and pressing a kiss there. "My brave, brave little soldier. We'll get you through this."

"Do you mind ringing the doctor?" Dean whispers.

"Of course."

"I'm not sure I'll have the courage to let you do it any other time."

Cas smiles, lips still pressed to Dean's forehead. "Okay."

 

Castiel returns half an hour later with the news; Dean's officially on the waitlist.  
This time November, he'll have his sight.


	20. Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas races the winding hillside roads to the sea with the windows down, radio up, and a dark cloud called Dean Winchester in the seat beside him...

"It's too _hot_ for that!"

"That's why we're going!"

"You're not listening to me!" 

Castiel folds his arms, leaning all his weight onto the one hip and fixing Dean with an exasperated expression, which he just _knows_ the idiot can _feel_. "I am listening, Dean. Hot weather is beach weather- we're going."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Dean whines; has been whining all afternoon.

"You tend to get a say in things whether I like it or not- which is what's been happening all day. Shut up, we're going."

Dean flops on the couch, resting the knuckles of his hand on his forehead, fingers spread in that way people do when they're faking faintness. He's milking it now, and he damn well knows it. "Oh, Mr. Novak, you couldn't possibly understand my pain! It's _dreadful_! Blindness has heightened all my senses. I feel the heat, I feel the cold- it's hell! I'm afraid I'm much too susceptible to heatstroke to venture to the seaside with you."

"Well, then I guess working in the garage is out of the question, as well. Working in those conditions- it's _dangerous_! You're right, you simply _can't_ go out in this heat. I'll have to lock you up in here with the aircon and the cat, and let Bobby know working is out of the question for you this season." Cas can barely keep the smile off his face, his words dripping in faux-concern.

"Touché." Dean pouts, dropping his 'pity me' demeanour and letting his hand fall to his chest. "Fine, we'll go."

"Missing out was never an option." Cas chirps, skipping out of the room.

"You're an asshole. A manipulative, wicked, seductive son of a bitch." Dean calls after him.

"Likewise!"

 

Cas races the winding hillside roads to the sea with the windows down, radio up, and a dark cloud called Dean Winchester in the seat beside him.

"Cheer up!" He calls over the whistle of the wind and the summertime jams pounding from the speakers.

"Calm down!" Dean snaps back, briefly craning his neck to glance at him before turning back to stare out the window; pouty faced, chin resting on his palm.

"You really know how to kill the mood." Cas turns the radio down, glancing at Dean with concern now. Yesterday he'd have just let it slide; they bicker like that often. He'd thought Dean'd be over it by now, but he's not, and now he's actually getting worried. "What's up?"

" _Nothing_." Dean drags the word out, long and low. Something's definitely up.

"Dean," Cas turns the radio off all together, slowing down and winding the windows up. He doesn't mind if his high spirits have crash-landed, just as long as Dean hasn't been shot down, too. "Tell me."

"Nothing!" Dean snaps, yanking his chin off his hand and turning on him. He sounds like a temperamental teenager, pissed at their parent for... Whatever?

"Well, it's obviously something!" Cas takes a deep breath, "Come on, Dean. I want us _both_ to enjoy today. If you're going to be like this, then I'll just call Sam and tell him you're unwell and we'll go home."

"No!" Dean shouts, then Cas' words seem to seep in. "No, no, don't do that." He deflates, turning away with sagging shoulders, head hung. "Just go. Let's go."

"Are you sure?" Castiel speaks slowly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes."

He steps on the gas and they're off again, zipping down the coast to the blue horizon.

 

"Hey, hey!" Sam calls as they step out of the car, Cas heading around to the boot while Dean stretches, still frowning faintly. He's gone quiet, and Cas can't decide which Dean he prefers; pouty, stubborn Dean; or quiet, kicked-puppy Dean.

Cas shoots Sam a quick greeting smile as he pops the trunk. Sam waves, then pulls Dean in for a firm hug.

"You made it!" Jess jogs up to Cas, tippy-toeing to peck his cheek. She's in a flashy bikini; cool green, held together by gold ringlets. Her soft blonde hair is pulled back into a loose bun, huge sunglasses swallowing up her face.

"Hey, Jess." Cas beams and stoops to hug her, kissing her cheek in return. "You look wonderful."

"Oh, this?" She blushes, tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. "Thank-you!" She giggles, nose crinkling, and helps Cas upload the car.

 

"You're full of surprises, Novak." Sam rolls over on his deck chair to face Castiel and Jess as they approach, arms laden with beach gear.

"I like to keep you lot on your toes." Cas smiles and drops his load; folded chairs, ice box and beachball.

Sam laughs, shaking his head. "There are very few beings on this good earth that can get Dean Winchester to the seaside. I applaud you."

A small frown flicks across Castiel's face before he schools it into a forced smile. "Oh? Well, it certainly wasn't easy."

"I bet!" Sam laughs, rapping Dean's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, chuck us a beer, will you?"

Cas pops the lid of the cooler and tosses a can to Sam, who catches it in one hand and cracks it open, taking a long swig.

Jess shakes her head, smiling, and adjusts her hair beside Cas. "Take a seat, Castiel."

"Oh, sure..." Cas takes his stripy blue towel from the pile and shuffles sheepishly over to Dean, spreading the towel out and sitting down with a soft groan. Dean doesn't move, not until Castiel takes his hand- then he snatches it away and turns on his chair, giving Cas the cold shoulder.

The air sizzles with tension you could cut, and suddenly everyone finds it very hard to breathe.

"Uh-hm, well," Sam coughs awkwardly, standing up. "I think I might go for a dip. Care to join me, Jess?"

"Uh, yes!" She says, over-bright. They bound down the dunes together, tearing through the surf and plunging into the waves. Jess squeals, something about getting her hair wet.

Cas feels sick, ashamed. He can feel embarrassment washing over him like the waves on the shore, making him nauseous. He'd just thought... Well, Dean complained about a lot of things, he just thought he was just whinging about going to the beach. Apparently not, and now Cas feels awful.

"Dean?"

Nothing.

Cas takes a deep breath. "Dean, baby, please."

"Don't _baby_ me." Dean's voice is dark, growling.

"Oh, sorry." Cas says; too fast, too defensive. Dean seizes up, stiffening his back.

They're quiet for a moment; Castiel not knowing what to say, Dean not wanting to talk. The ocean breeze sighs through the long grass, shushing through the clump of trees behind them. Out of the shadows the sun beats down, harsh and hot.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

After a moment, he melts. Cas watches Dean's shoulders slump, breath audibly forced from his lungs. He rolls over, glasses slipping down his nose, and reaches a hand out to Castiel, who takes it. "No, I'm sorry."

"If you really didn't want to come, you should've just _said_ , Dean." Cas flips Dean's hand over, running his free fingers over his palm. Dean likes it when Cas touches him, even small gestures like this. He melts like butter when you 'Nice Tickle' him; which is what he calls it when Castiel lies him down and trickles his fingertips down his back, ghosts them up his sides. Not the cheeky kind of tickling, where you make people laugh and beg you to stop; the nice kind that makes your hairs stand on end and you beg them to keep going. Dean likes sensory things like that.

"I was just being a princess. Acting like some goddamn bratty teen. I'm sorry, love."

Cas interrupts his stroking to pet his hand. "It's fine. Do you want to tell me why you don't like the beach?"

Dean shrugs. "Lotsa reasons."

"Like?" Castiel presses, gently.

"I don't like the water."

"Why?"

"Too cold." Dean forces a shiver. "And it feels... Gross."

"Is that the real reason?"

"Well..." Dean hesitates.

Cas shuffles closer, now circling his forefinger tip on Dean's upturned palm. "Bad memories? Mallory?"

Surprisingly, Dean lets out a bark of laughter. "No, no..." A smile creases his cheeks, he shakes his head. "Mal could never get me to the beach. Sam wasn't kidding, no one can." He turns, reaching his other hand out and feeling around for Cas' cheek, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead when he does. "No one but you."

Cas rolls his eyes, smiling. "Then what?"

Dean sighs, pulling away. "I-uh... I'm scared of the ocean."

"Scared? Of the _ocean_?" Cas asks, incredulous.

"And..."

"And?"

"I," Dean drops his head, mumbling almost indecipherably, "I can't swim."

 

Cas shyly ducks behind a nearby bush, shielding himself behind the thick branches. He thanks the Lord that this section of the beach is empty aside from them; otherwise he'd be in a fix. He quickly tugs down his shorts, awkwardly scrambling out of them and pulling his swim trunks up, fixing the band around his waist and tightening the drawstring. He then pulls his shirt off, immediately feeling the sun's heat baring down in his exposed skin.  
He scoops up his clothes, tucking them under his arm, and shuffles back to their little camp, head bowed in embarrassment. He doesn't particularly like going shirtless in public, especially shirtless and in nothing but swim shorts and sunglasses. He feels exposed and self-conscious.

Dean's head swivels around. "Cas, is that you?"

"Yeah," He mumbles. "How'd you know?"

"Superpowers." Dean's lips tug up at the corner.

"You haven't changed, yet." That wipes the ridiculous smirk off Dean's face.

"Well, I-"

"Need me to dress you, honey?" Cas raises his voice, trying for 'Overprotective Mommy'. "C'mere, baby Deanie."

"I hate you." Dean grumbles, standing up. "At least I was smart enough to wear my swim clothes _underneath_."

"Funny, considering you weren't planning on swimming."

"I hate sand in my boxers." Dean tugs his long shorts down, careful not to take his bright red swim trunks with them. Kicking his shoes off, he grips the hem of his t-shirt and whips it off, discarding it on his chair and making to step towards Cas.

"Glasses." Cas raises an eyebrow.

Dean pauses, shuffles from foot to foot, not moving to take them off.

"Dean," Cas says on a sigh. "You can't wear them in the water."

"Can."

"You'll ruin them." Cas walks up to him, putting his hands up to pinch the rim.

"Public, Cas."

"It's okay."

Dean bites his lip, but doesn't stop Cas from pulling his glasses away, daintily folding them and setting them down. Castiel is hyperaware of Jess and Sam, standing a little way off, watching them.

"There." He says, planting a quick kiss on Dean's nose. "It's okay, now take my hand."

Dean does. 

"I'm not going to leave you. No one's even watching. It's okay."

Dean nods jerkily, and follows Cas as he tugs him down to the water's edge.

Dean's grip tightens as the sound of waves batting the shore grows louder, the sand changing from soft grains to solid, wet, hard sand.   
"I'm not sure-"

"It's okay." Cas says gently, pausing to let Dean collect himself. "Take one step- an actual step, Dean- there. Now, wait..."  
The water washes up, foaming tip brushing over Dean's toes. He cries out, jumping back, almost pulling Cas down as he does. 

" _No, no, I'm not ready. I don't like it. I don't like it_." Dean rushes, his breathing rapid. 

Castiel runs steady, soothing hands over his shoulders, shushing him. "You can. It's okay. I'm here, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I don't like it."

"I know, but it's okay. You can go boating, no problem. This'll be fine."

"Boating's different, I didn't have to swim, I wasn't in the water. Besides, that was a lake. Very different. I hate this, Cas, please-"

"Dean." Cas stops him, voice steady and soothing. "Do you trust me?"

"I-" Dean swallows. "Yes."

"Then hold my hands," Cas turns around, taking both of Dean's hands in his, and begins backing into the water. "And follow me."

Dean's grip is crushing, but he follows him in, slowly. Ankle-high water; knees; waist. They stop and Cas let's Dean catch his breath. His deep blue swim trunks blow up around his legs and he releases Dean's hand to push them down.

"Don't let go!" Dean cries, lips quivering.

"Just fixing my shorts, Dean, it's okay."

"Okay." Dean says quietly, looking and sounding just like a giant, frightened child. "What- what colour are they?"

"What? My shorts?" Cas frowns.

Dean's chest heaves. "Yeah..."

"Well... Oh." Castle's face relaxes as he realises what Dean's doing; he's centring himself, the way he was taught too. "Well, they're blue. Dark blue. Like... Do you remember, uhm..." He struggles to think of a way to describe them other than 'deep sea blue', which really would defeat the purpose of this. "Like, do you remember the shirt Sam wore on his sixteenth birthday?"

"How do you know what shirt he wore on his sixteenth birthday?"

"Photographs. Do you remember the colour?"

"Yes."

Cas smiles. "That colour."

"Oh. Oh, nice."

"And yours are red." Cas continues, feeling Dean's hands begin to slacken as his mind wanders, refocussing on something simple, manageable. 

"You picked red?"

"I did."

"What possessed you to do that?"

Castiel laughs. "I liked them."

"They were on sale, weren't they?"

A smirk. "That's beside the point."

Now Dean laughs, tipping his head back, his hands only barely holding Cas' now. There's a click and Dean twitches, Cas peers over his shoulder to the shore.

"Sam just took a picture of us."

"Did you bring the camera?"

"Of course." Castiel returns his gaze to Dean, staring up at him; his freckles, the curve of his mouth, the flutter of eyelashes and twitch of closed eyelids. "Do you think," He says, quietly. "That you could trust me to let go, if I stayed right here?"

"Yes." Dean breathes.

Cas let's his hands fall away, slowly lowering them to the water. Dean stands stock-still, eyes scrunched up and nose crinkling. He must decide it's not so bad, though, because he slackens and drops his own hands to the water, cupping it and letting it run between his fingers. 

"Okay?" Cas asks.

"Yeah..." Dean sounds disbelieving. "Yeah."

"Ready to learn to swim?"

Dean snaps his head up. "What?!"

"Trust me." Cas steps forward, taking Dean's arm. "Trust me."

"I really don't think-"

"We'll stay in the shallows." Cas reassures him. "Right here, and I'll hold you until you feel comfortable to let go, okay? We'll go at your pace."

"Okay. But, Cas," Dean sucks in a sharp breath. "I really don't like it. I don't like it."

"Okay, Dean. It's okay."

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam in the shore, camera held steady, facing them. He must be recording them. Cas pays him no mind, sliding around to Dean's back and gripping his upper arms.

"Okay, I'm going to lie you down now, okay? Then you won't have to put your whole face underwater, alright? I'll be here until you're on your back, then I'll move to your side. I won't let go, and I'll support you the whole way, okay?"

"Okay." A small, shaky reply.

Cas begins backing away slowly as Dean tips, almost touching the back of his head to the water before he shouts, "No!" and springs upright.

Castiel doesn't mind, not even a little. He patiently coaxes Dean back into position, and begins to lower him again, talking nonsense to him the whole way.

"I should've brought floaties."

"I hate you, you dick."

Cas laughs. Dean's head touches the water. He sinks lower. They make it all the way to his ears before Deans loses it.

He thrashes, shouts pure noise- no words. His arms flail and his legs scramble to get under him, and he twists in Cas' arms. 

"Dean, Dean, woah- woah! Shh, Dean, _shh_." Castiel tries, his heart beating fast, trying to keep calm. People stop, people stare at them. Dean keeps splashing, writhing in the water and crying out. His head dips under momentarily and his screams become frantic gurgles as he flips over, hands grasping for Cas. The other man catches him, then. He scoops him up and pulls him further into the shallows. Cas bends his knees and to his surprise Dean hops right into his lap, hands fisted on his chest. He curls into him, quivering, head tucked beneath his chin. Cas holds him like a child, and Dean feels so small in his arms. He hadn't meant to scare him like that.  
Dean's heart beats rapidly, pulse felt everywhere Cas' fingers touch, his breathing quick and short.

" _I can't, I can't_..." He pants, turning to press his face into the hollow of Castiel's throat.

People are still staring.

"Shh, it's okay. I've got you. I didn't let go."

"The water." Dean says. "In my ears. _I can't_ -" He trips over himself.

_Oh_ , Castiel thinks. _Of_ _course_.

Dean's primary sense is his hearing; with his ears submerged, he has no sight, no sound. Cas can imagine that'd be frightening for someone who can't swim, someone afraid of the ocean. 

He finds it peaceful, himself. Sometimes when he swims, he spreads himself out into a star and floats, hearing nothing but water sound, and lets his eyes drift closed. He finds it serene. But, he figures, it'd be horrible if you didn't have a _choice_ in the matter; if you were _forced_ to swim blind and deaf.

"Love, listen," He coos, stroking Dean's damp hair. "I know it's hard to let go, I know it must be scary to have nothing to rely on. No senses. But I'm here, and I won't let anything happen. You won't drown, you won't drift off, nothing can touch you. We don't have to, but if you want..." He presses a kiss to Dean's forehead, and fuck the people who're staring. "We can try again?"

Dean is quiet for a moment. "I want to try again."

Cas smiles. "Attaboy."

 

Dean's floating unaided within the hour. Cas stands to his side, hand sliding away from where it'd pressed, fanned out on Dean's back. Dean's eyes are slack, mouth relaxed, his chest puffed out, buoying him. Cas smiles and sinks lower into the water, letting the cool ocean waves wash over his back, sizzling where the sun had begun to crisp his skin. He'd rubbed sunblock throughly over them both, and he can only hope it works.

"Cas?" Dean whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Cas?"

Castiel drifts closer, touching Dean's arm and raising his voice a little. "Yes?"

"Thanks."

Cas bends, pressing his mouth to Dean's, who opens his in return, accepting the kiss. From the shore, Sam _aw's_ loudly. Dean raises his hand tentatively and flips Sam off once he's balanced. Cas laughs, and so does Jess.

Everything is perfect.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Can you take me out further?"

Castle's eyes widen. "Are you sure?"

Dean let's his legs drop, planting his feet on the seafloor and standing up, Cas' eyes follow him up as he does, eyeing him cautiously. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"How far out?"

"Well, I want to..." Dean seems to contemplate his answer. "You can't let me go."

"I won't."

"My bravery only stretches so far."

Cas nods. "Of course."

"I don't want to touch the bottom."

Now it's Cas' turn to be unsure. "Dean, if you can't touch the floor, neither can I. If you panic again, it'll be harder to-"

"I won't." Dean assures him with surprising confidence. "I trust you."

A heavy sigh. "Okay."

Dean takes his hand and Castiel leads him out further, walking until his neck is submerged, and then paddling further. Dean tows along slightly behind him, hopping on his tip-toes head tilted back. They go until there's nothing, and Dean nearly goes under.

"Woah, okay." Cas catches him before he can sink, fully submerged. Dean may trust him, but he doesn't fully trust Dean. "Okay, I've got you."

Dean flashes a dazzling smile. "I know."

Cas laughs and pulls slightly away, holding Dean's hands like he did at the start, facing him, clutching both. "Good?"

"Good."

"Okay." The waves gently swell up around them, rocking them up and down, side-to-side. "How's this feel?"

"Alright. A little freaky." Dean says, honestly. "There're no sharks around here, right? No carnivorous fish? No stingy things?"

Cas chuckles. "No, not here. We're safe."

"No rift things. I hear rift things are dangerous."

"No, no rift things. It's a safe beach, the currents are fine and the tides are mild."

Dean nods, swallowing. He's being very brave, but Cas can still see the cracks. "Good, good..."

"Are you okay."

"With you, always." Dean squeezes his hands.

"You are such a sap." Cas shakes his head. "You are ridiculous."

"Maybe." Dean pulls Cas in tight, pressing their chests together until they're floating in the waves as one, legs idly kicking to keep them above the surface. "I Dean you."

"I Dean you, too." Cas kisses him gentle, tasting the salt on his lips and the slight tang of sunscreen, the rough texture of sand. Dean kisses him back and Cas closes his eyes to the kiss, getting lost in the weightlessness of his body, his soul.

"I want to go under." Dean mutters into the kiss, his lips brushing softly against Cas'.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but you gotta go under, too."

"Are you sure-" Cas says, interrupted by a smooch, "you want to get your hair wet?"

Dean laughs and it tastes like magic. His breath is soft against Castiel's face, ticklish and warm, and full of life. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay. On the count of three?"

"One." Dean's eyes slide open, and if he could, he'd be staring right at Cas. It doesn't seem to matter that they're pale and frosted, there's love and warmth in those eyes all the same.

"Two. Close your eyes, Dean."

"Not yet." Dean brushes a knuckle over Cas' temple, trails it down his cheek to press fingertips to his throat. He kisses him once more, pouring in all of his love, his affection. Cas understands now. Dean's showing him his trust. He's conquering his fears and his uncertainties. He's showing Cas that he trusts him, more than anything- with anything, with his life. And oh, how Cas loves him for it. How proud he is of his stupid, hard-headed, beautiful, magnificent boyfriend.

Oh, how he loves him.

"Three." Dean whispers. They hold their breaths and close their eyes, and they both dive in together.


	21. Fairy Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I better get it up now before I go to bed, because you've been waiting long enough. I'll touch the chapter up tomorrow.
> 
> Enjoy, lovelies :)

Castiel hums, his fingers methodically peeling away at the layers of leafy green lettuce. The house is pleasantly quiet, Hannah curled in the sunspot by the lounge window, napping in the peace of Dean's absence.  
Dean himself is at the clinic.

_Bzzzzzp_

Cas drops the lettuce he's breaking up into the bowl, rinsing his hands and swiping his damp palms on his apron before picking up his phone.  
There's a text from Dean:

**Still waitlisted. Probably some time next year.**

Cas slams his cell down on the bench with a curse.

* * *

Dean trails his fingers up the curve of Cas' bare back. "I love you, you know?"

Cas smiles, his face half hidden in the pillow. He shifts, pushing up on his forearms and turning to look at Dean, Dean's hand falling to rest at the bottom of his spine. "Yeah, I know."

Dean presses a tender little kiss to his lips. "Are we busy tomorrow?"

"Uhm," Cas hums, kissing back. "I have work."

"What about Sunday?"

Cas pauses, almost forgetting to reply as Dean runs his magic fingers through his hair in just the right way. "Uh, no. No, I don't think so."

"Good." They roll over, Dean pinning Cas on his back, running his fingertips all over him. "I wanna take you out."

"We're going out tomorrow night, remember?" Cas pokes his nose with the point of his finger.

"Well, we can go out again."

 

Dean'd been strangely calm about the news. The doctor had told him that his situation simply wasn't severe enough for him to get his operation put forward. Cas'd expected him to be gutted, but he seemed surprisingly okay. Dean'd come home and hugged Cas for a long while, then disappeared to their room to call Sam. When he'd come downstairs he was smiling, his usual chirpy self, and Cas'd let his worry slide.

Which was just as well, because Castiel is planning something big.

 

Dean seems just as upbeat the next morning when he accidentally wakes Cas up early, the sun not yet peeking through the filters of their blinds.

"Where're you going?" Castiel slurs, sitting up and blinking around sleepily, searching for Dean through the haze of drowsiness. "It's not even light out."

"Yeah, that doesn't really bother me too much, buddy." Dean laughs from somewhere to Cas' right. There's the plonk of shoes being dropped to the floor and a scuffle as he tries to shove his feet inside. Cas is just beginning to blink away the bleariness when Dean swoops over, cupping the back of his head and pecking him on his crown. "Gotta head to the garage, Bobby needs my help. I'll call you later."

"I'll have work." Cas mumbles, immediately feeling the morning chill on his skin when Dean drifts away.

From somewhere down the stairs Dean calls, "Have a good day!" then the front door slams closed and Cas falls back on the mattress, closing his eyes and almost immediately falling back asleep.

 

Dean calls later, about an hour into Cas' shift. 

"I told you I had work." Castiel answers with a huff, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pours a coffee for table 4.

"Right, right..." Dean breathes a laugh into the receiver. "Sorry, Cas."

"Is there something important you need to tell me?" Cas passes the coffee off to Meg who gives the phone wedged on his shoulder a dirty look. "Because I can't really be doing this right now, Dean."

There's a pause. "No... No, sorry, Cas."

"Are you sure?" Cas asks slowly, frowning.

"Yeah, all good. I just wanted to talk to you" Dean sounds a little put off, which causes a stab go guilt in Cas' stomach. He can't help it, though- he has to work.

"Okay, well, I have to go. See you later- oh, Dean!" Cas picks up the phone for real, pressing it to his ear and cupping his hand around the receiver to try and reduce the background noise on his end. "I get off at 5, do you think you'll be home by then?"

"Yeah, why?" Dean sounds suspicious.

"We're going out, remember?" Cas bites his lip. "Just dress nice and be ready for me, okay?"

 

Castiel's stomach is a fluttery mess as he walks home, his nerves carrying him swiftly across town and up the hill to the apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He throws the door open, dashing to the stairs and catching a glimpse of Dean on the couch on his way up.

"I said nice, Dean!"

"What- this is nice!" Dean calls back, offended.

Cas rolls his eyes. Dean might think a non-grease stained Zeppelin tee counts as nice, but the general public would disagree. "Put a shirt on!"

He has about five minutes to shower, towel off, throw on the suit (which he had the foresight to lay out before he left that morning), slap on some aftershave and tidy his hair before he has to wrangle Dean out the door and into the Impala. He zips straight the bathroom, throwing the tap on and stripping in record time, scrubbing himself like his life depends on getting squeaky-clean in 2 minutes- which it sort of does, in all honesty. He shrugs on his shirt as quickly as he dares to without the risk of crinkling the neatly pressed folds or popping open an buttons. His tie isn't done up the best, he can feel it, but he honestly doesn't have time to check himself before he rushes out the door and flies down the stairs.

Dean is standing by the door with his shoes on looking slightly miffed, but sporting an eye-catching burgundy shirt Cas has never seen before.   
"You smell good." He remarks, stepping forward while Cas shoves his feet into his shoes and rushes to tie them. 

"You look good." Cas shoots back, standing and snatching the keys off the hook, throwing on his trench coat as an afterthought and slinging Dean's parka over one arm. "Ready? Let's go."

"What's the rush?" Dean mumbles on the way to the car, Castiel tugging him by the arm.

"Reservation. Duck your head."

Dean ducks into he car and Cas shoves the door shut behind him, jogging around to the driver's side and launching them out of the driveway.

"Where are we going, again?" Dean drums his fingers on his knee, still looking a little put-off.

"I never said." Cas screeches to a halt at a red light. Dean sighs and pushes back against his seat, his mouth dimpling at the corners as he presses his lips together. Cas' heart skips a little. "Oh, Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you or snap, I'm just a little-"

"Stressed?" Dean laughs. "Yeah, I can tell."

Castiel blushes shamefully, easing off at the green, calming a little. They rumble along for a few minutes more in silence, a bit of the tension let out as Cas relaxes his shoulders and quits zipping through the yellow lights like they're a challenge.

"Your cologne smells real nice." Dean comments.

"Thanks."

"What's the occasion?"

Cas swallows, his tie feeling a little too tight despite obviously being carelessly loose. "What do you mean?"

"Uhm, reservation? Fancy cologne? I can literally feel the tension rolling off you. What's up?"

"Well," Cas flounders for a moment. "I just... Wanted to cheer you up."

"I'm already cheered."

"Well, I was going to take you out. To celebrate. I've had this booked a while, I guess I just didn't consider the possibility that you'd be waitlisted."

Dean's quiet for a moment. "Oh..."

"Sam and Jess are meeting us there."

That perks Dean up. "Yeah? Cool." He lounges back in his seat, shifting his shoulders a little form side to side. "I hope they have good fries. I feel like some good fries."

They do have good fries. They do have good anything.

Cas pulls up at the parking lot of the esteemed, 5-star-rated ' _The Ninth Cloud_ ' and shifts Baby into park, trying to draw a deep, shuddering breath without Dean hearing him. Dean sits patiently and waits for Cas to make a move before opening his door and unpacking his stick, taking Castiel's arm when he pets Dean's shoulder and hooking his elbow around the crook of Cas'. They make their way to the fact entrance with double doors rimmed with shining, polished gold and passed the doorman in a crisp royal blue uniform, who opens the door for them with a curt bow and inviting smile.

The inside of the restaurant is exquisite. Humungous chandeliers adorned with thousands of little crystals dangle from the ceiling, swimming in soft, golden light. Everything is polished to perfection, so shiny Cas can see his reflection every wear they turn. The waiters dress in neat uniforms and walk with a dozen dishes balanced delicately on their arms, and trays raised on the tips of their fingers. It is a place of class and professionalism and Castiel suddenly feels very out of place.

"Woah," Dean chuckles beside him, completely adamant to the aristocratic domain he'd just walked literally blindly into. "Smells amazing in hear. So many glasses, can you hear it?"  
Yes, if Cas quietened his mind enough the soft buzz of chattering voices and chinking glasses began to wash over him. But his emersion into Dean's auditory world wa short, his thoughts too scattered to collect and contain for too long.

Castiel walks them numbly up to the register, a golden podium behind which stands a man in a matching uniform to the doorman, his hair slicked back and his face clean-shaven, bright eyes shining out from under dark, sharp eyebrows. "Good evening, sir and sir." He says with a nod. "May I have your name?"

Castiel stares dumbly at him for a moment before the words register. "Oh, uh," he fumbles. "Yes, sorry. Novak, Castiel."

The man runs a finger lightly over the book- yes, book. A big, thick volume with golden page tips and neat lines scribbled with flawless cursive. "Table number 7?"

Cas nods, trying for a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.

"Seating for four." The man looks at him, expectantly.

"Oh, right." Cas gestures at Dean. "Uhh, one is here, and the other two will be arriving shortly. A man and a woman- Winchester. They'll probably ask under my name."

"I'm sure." The man folds the book closed with a fixed smile and waves a hand towards a waiter in a pressed white uniform complete with tie and sash, who steps forward with they hands folded primly behind their back. "Walters here will be taking care of you this evening."

Castiel turns towards Walters, unsure at to whether he shook offer his hand or not. 

Walters doesn't extend his, just smiles the same smile as the registry man and says, "If you would please follow me, I'll show you to your seats."

He leads them across the floor, passed tables neatly crowded with just enough room for the women in fine, silk dresses and men in their sharp suits. Some of them glance up, staring at Cas and Dean over their menus, their eyes cold and judgemental. Castiel turns away from them with a shiver, shuffling to keep up with Walters and trying to keep an eye out for Dean and he tags a little behind, arm still entwined with Cas, his stick rolling over the floor in front and beside him.

"Here we are, table 7." Walters turns on his heel and extends an arm to the little table in the far corner, set next to the massive roof-to-floor tinted windows. He waits for Cas to walk Dean over to a seat before pulling it out for them, and then pulling the chair out for Cas beside him. Cas utters a thank-you and accepts the menus Walters passes to him, smiling and nodding when the waiter offers to bring them water in a jug.

He doesn't let out him breath until they're both completely alone.

"He sounded like a real stick-in-the-ass." Dean snorts, extending his leg out under the table and relaxing into the plush seat with a soft squeak.

"Don't judge people like that, Dean." Cas chastises, glancing around guiltily and praying that Sam and Jess arrive soon, both of them with their level-heads and laid back attitudes.

Dean scoffs. "What, like they're not judging me?" He shakes his head, fighting a smile. "What kinda fancy establishment have you dragged me into now, Novak?"

Cas shifts in his seat. "Uhm, a nice one. Do you want to look at the menu?"

"Can you read it to me, champ?" 

This gets Cas to smile. Usually, when they go out, Cas has to list off everything on the menu, and then read aloud the descriptions for the dishes Dean likes, and the prices, and the switch back and forth between a few as Dean tries to decide on what he wants. It's usually an exasperating, time consuming ordeal that Cas wouldn't really mind too much if Dean didn't always end it by throwing his hands up and saying, "just get me whatever!"  
Not _this_ time, though. Because this time, Cas has a little surprise up his sleeve.

"Here," Cas passes Dean a menu, smiling coyly when Dean quirks and eyebrow, taking the leather bound book from him. "Just take it."

Dean lifts the cover and dances his fingers over the firm card paper listing all the restaurants delicacies and picturing them in gold-rimmed frames. Cas watches his face intently, noting every little twitch and shift. Dean's not wearing his glasses, the frames folded in his breast pocket, and Castiel can see the moment he realises that he can read the menu because it's got the words indented in Braille underneath because he can see Dean's droopy eyes open wide and his lips part and his brows climb so high up his forehead they nearly join his hairline.

"Cas..." Dean breathes.

"Its not easy," Cas says, teasing, leaning in closer to Dean, giddy with delight. "To find a place that caters to you, but I found it. Granted, it'll be bread and water for the next month, but it's worth it." Dean peers up at him, grinning broadly, and he's sparkling in the light. Castiel beams back; and it's such a small thing, this Braille menu, but it means the world. The absolute world. "It's worth it."

"Thanks, Cas." Dean flushes, his fingers still absently stroking over the little dots on the card.

"My pleasure." Castiel's eyes drift to Dean's lips, a little half-smile still hung on his plush, pink mouth. He leans in a little. "I Dean you."

"I Dean you, too, Cas." Dean pulls back a fracture, licking his lips. "Not here." He breathes, and Cas pulls back. Dean's right, it's not the place.

Somehow, over the hum of the crowd, Cas hears Sam's voice and Jess' floaty giggle, and sure enough, when he looks up, he sees the pair making their way towards the table, Sam towering over Walters as he zips along in front.

"I hope we're not late to the party." Jess apologises with an easy smile. Sam pets her back and shuffles behind her to plonk himself down in the seat next to Dean, leaving Jess to take the chair beside Cas, blushing as Walter's pulls it out for her with a flourish.

Sam stretches out, making enough noise for his whereabouts to be noticed by Dean. He grins goofily and says, "Please, we bring the party, don't we, Cas?" He shoots Cas a cheeky wink, which Cas returns with a grin and a shake of the head.

Dean snorts. "Oh, please." He twists in his seat, holding his opposite hand out to his big-little brother, embracing him.

"I hope we didn't keep you too long." Jess says floatily, leaning over to press a kiss to Castiel's cheek, her curly golden locks tumbling over her shoulders and tickling Cas' nose.

"Oh, no. We've barely looked at the menu."

as if on cue, Walters apparates behind Sam's shoulder, clasping two folders in his hands. "Sir, ma'am," he nods at Sam and Jess respectively. "Would you care for a menu?"

Sam tips his head back. "Yeah, sure, thanks." And takes the menus, passing one across the table to Jessica.

Cas watches the exchange, the slight lingering of fingers as they brush, his eyes drawn to the golden bands sparkling in the restaurant's yellowed light.

Walters executes another of his little half-bows and trots off, disappearing into the sea of white, blue and gold.

Cas tries to take the place in, to look at it and focus. It's grand beyond belief, twinkling and immaculate and rich in all sense of the word. His eyes drift over gold and glass; diamonds and royal blue; rich silks and exquisitely detailed filigree. He can't seem to drink it all in, can't quite grasp the place. It's like every storybook depiction of Heaven, or a luxurious castle concealed within the heart of an enchanted forest.

His heart aches for Dean- then he remembers to take some pictures. 

He holds his phone up as inconspicuously as possible, trying not to draw attention to himself. He thought of bringing his camera, but decided it'd be too off; and maybe he'd get it taken off him. You just never knew with these fancy places.

"-good." Cas catches the end of Dean's sentence which sends Sam into a fit of laughter.

"Dude, you're so weird." Sam shakes his head, face still scrunched in a frozen giggle.

"What? It's the truth!" Dean retorts comically, over-justifying himself. "The solid truth. And you know what else smells good?"

"What?" Sam prompts.

"The pecan pie."

Sam's eyes go wide and Cas raises an eyebrow, not entirely sure what the context of all this is. 

"You cannot be serious." Sam breathes.

"Yep, somewhere to the left." Dean gestures with an absent wave of the hand.

Sam let's out a low whistle, both eyebrows raising until his forehead crinkles. "Woah..."

Dean taps his nose with his pointer finger. "Nose like a fox."

"It's kinda ridiculous." Sam says. "You're, like, a superhero. Pie Boy. You have pie senses."

"My pie senses are tingling." Dean twinkles his fingers and they both fall apart, much to Cas and Jess' bemusement.

 

Their food arrives not too long after they order, which earns _The Ninth Cloud_ points in Cas' favour. Dean gets his fries, along with a very fancy, picture-perfect burger which he swears is the best burger he's ever tasted, aside from his own. Sam orders himself an incredibly large pasta dish that steams when set in front of him; Castiel has no doubt he'll find a way to fit it all in his bottomless stomach.

Jess orders a sea food platter that she picks off in between offering calamari rings to the gentlemen, and Cas orders Dean's menu with an alternate burger; a juicy slice of steak sandwiched between succulent greens and exotic sauces, bedded between two home-made seasame seed buns. His mouth literally waters between each bite, and he decides the food and service is well worth the money he's paying.

"So, Cas," Sam mumbles around a mouthful of pasta and sauce. "What's the occasion?"

"I asked him the same thing." Dean shrugs. "He couldn't give me a straight answer."

Cas shifted nervously in his seat, suddenly feeling exposed and fluttery. He scratches awkwardly at his neck and hopes the others don't notice his nervous tick, dismissing them both nonchalantly and saying, "I just felt like spoiling us. I think we all deserve it."

Dean just curls his lip out and nods, going back to gnawing on his burger. Sam doesn't look quite as convinced as his brother, giving Castiel as strange look, each changing a quick glance with Jess, who's also giving Cas the suspicious eye. There's the ghost of a smile on her sweet pink lips and Cas gets the funny feeling she's in to him. Jess often was- she just _got_ him, and Castiel got her.

They wait for everyone to finish and settle, sipping on ice water before Sam suggests dessert- on him- and Cas shifts, sitting up a little taller and clearing his throat.  
"Uh, actually," He swallows. "I was going to take us out... Somewhere."

"We're already out, buddy." Dean teases, haunching forward, leaning over his forearms on the table. 

Castiel acknowledges him. "Yes, we are. But I- I want to take you somewhere else."

Sam and Jess stare at him quizzically, Dean imitating Cas' signature head tilt-and-frown combo. Castiel just smiles sheepishly and stands, excusing himself to head to the registry and pay. The others are left baffled in his wake, and he can practically hear them mulling over his words, trying to work out why he's acting so strange. He doesn't mean to be so elusive, but he's trying to maintain an element of surprise- and that's hard when someone knows you as well as Sam, Jess and Dean know him.

He passes Walters on the way, who stops him with a polite tap on the shoulder. "Is there anything you require, Mr. Novak?"

"No." Castiel smiles. "Thank-you, I'm just paying the bill."

"If you remain seated, I can bring the check to you, sir." Walters smiles, gesturing towards Cas' table.

Cas raises his hands, shaking them. "No, no, I have a- uh, plan. Is it okay if I collect the bill at the bar?"

"Be my guest." Walters says, taking Castiel's hand when he offers it and shaky it firmly twice. "Enjoy the remainder of your evening."

"You, too. Thank-you." Cas replies sincerely and continues to the bar that doubles at the main desk. He asks the young woman behind the counter for his cheque and his 'special order', both of which are brought promptly to him. Cas swallows down the shock to his system when he sees the amount, which equals to more than a week's pay.  
_Worth it_ , he tells himself. _Worth it_.  
And he signs.

Dean is dramatically retelling some story that has both Sam and Jess in stitches when Castiel returns, his eyes blown wide and his hands waving animatedly through the air. The very space around his sizzles with life, and he practically sparkles. Cas pauses for a moment at little way away, just staring. 

Dean's so beautiful.

"Are you alright to go?" Cas asks, walking over with a stack of sealed boxes balanced in his arms.

Sam glances at him- at the boxes- and back with a nod. "Yeah, I think so." He turns questioningly to the other two, and Jess nods. Dean just sits and gazes blankly around, indifferent. 

"Do you want me to take those for you?" Jess appears at Castiel's side, pointing at the boxes.

"Oh, no, that's alright."

"Go on Cas," She smiles warmly. "I promise I won't peak. Let me take them so you can help Dean."

"I don't need help!" Dean pipes up, using his very-grown-up voice.

Sam snorts. "Trust me, brother, this isn't the kinda place you want to go tripping in. Cas, let Jess take the boxes. I won't peek, neither."

"Boxes?" Dean frowns, looking a little off-put, being out of the loop. "What boxes?"

"Never mind." Cas passes the boxes over to Jess, who, true to her word, doesn't even glance down at them or try and investigate in any way. She's such a treasure, Castiel has to remember to thank he sometime. Dean stands up and unrolls his stick, sort of awkwardly swaying on the spot until Cas comes around and take his arm, stroking a hand up his bicep to his shoulder and giving it an affectionate little squeeze. "Alright, follow me."

Dean lets himself get pulled along easily, moving beside Cas with complete faith in his ability to navigate them both through any crowd. His trust in Castiel seems such a small thing, but means so much to both of them. Sam and Cas wave to Walters and Jess mouths thank-you before the door to the outside world is opened to them and they step out into a cool, yet pleasant evening, the sky crowded with fairy floss wisps of cloud, a sweet gradient of burnt orange to love red. Out of sight from prying eyes, Dean leans his head on Cas' shoulder and breathes in heavily, murmuring something about 'smelling real good'. Castiel smiles softly and presses a kiss to his forehead, walking him to the car and opening the door for him. God, his heart flutters when he's with Dean. Lord, how he loves him.   
They have a poetry love, and Castiel prays it never turns to a bittersweet one.

"Are you alright to follow us?" Castiel sticks his head out the window when he rolls it down, calling to Sam as he loads Jess and Castiel's cargo into their Jeep.

"Yeah, sure thing." Sam waves in acknowledgement. Cas waits for them to pull in behind them before easing the Impala out of the carpark and turning down the road out of town, the sky setting fire the dashboard and the trees casting deep shadows that branch out to lick at their tires as they fly away from the town and out into the a world where the air is clear and you can feel the earth around you, not see it.

Castiel takes Dean's hand in his, resting them on the seat space between them, fingers entwined. A warmth spreads from the place they're connected, tingling up his arm to touch his heart. He feels whole with Dean beside him, holding his hand like he was always meant to. They fit together. A perfect pair. Each chipped away to their core, where their hearts beat in unison and the very air they breathe is each others. Castiel's life has become a part of Dean's, and and Dean a part of his. He hadn't even known he was missing something until Dean filled the space he didn't realise he had. Cas hadn't realised he was living a half-life for so long until Dean Winchester made him whole. 

They were each other's worlds. A full circle. Like night and day they follow each other, and they'll continue to do so until the end of time.

 

Castiel pulls into the little flat grassy area before the trail that leads to their special place in the woods, the sun sinking low into the horizon by this time and casting a bronze glow on every West-facing surface. He steps out, slinging his camera strap over his neck, taking a deep breath of fresh air to try and calm the nerves knotting in his stomach. Sam's Jeep pulls in as he traipses around to Dean's side of the car and opens it for him.  
Dean immediately perks up, sniffing the air a little before saying, "Cas, are we at the forest?"

Sam strides over, shooting Cas a strange look. Why are you doing?

Jess comes up behind him and she's sparkling, and Cas wonders whether there's anything her romantic soul can't figure out. She gives him the softest, most reassuring smile and offers to carry the boxes the rest of the way for him. Cas thanks her and takes Dean's arm, tucking it tightly under his and holding his hand to his chest.

"Awful affectionate tonight aren'tcha, bud?" Dean quips, snuggling his head beneath Cas' chin for a moment before tripping down the path to their favourite spot with him, fully trusting that Cas won't let him slip and fall down the step hill to the creek. Sam's footfalls echo through the quiet of the forest, heavy and as graceful as a moose, Jess giggling every now and then when Sam stumbles and nearly tumbles face-first into a tree trunk or a neat little pile of squirrel droppings. The forest is so silent around them Castiel feels like they're the only people on earth. 

They emerge into their clearing a few minutes and couple of close-calls on Sam's behalf later, the sun now nearly sunk beneath the surface of the world, the moon rising to take her turn. Jess lets out a sharp breath and Sam swallows down a startled sound, his eyes going wide, turning to Cas with his jaw dropping in slow-motion.

Cas looks back at him, feeling sheepish. They have a moment where no one speaks.

"Uhm," Dean says. "What's up?"

"Nothing." Sam says quickly, not tearing his eyes away from Castiel's gaze. He doesn't look angry, or uncomfortable. His expression is unreadable, though, and this makes Cas just as nervous.

Jess looks just about ready to burst into tears, her too-big heart welling up inside of her. She jogs over to the mat Cas had laid out, dropping the boxes careful down and motioning for Sam to join her, shooting a glance at Cas; a look of understanding. "Sam, why don't we head down to the creek?"

"Yeah," Sam calls out, slowly, breaking his staring contest with Cas to shoot her a quick smile. "Just a second."

Castiel gets the hint. He leads Dean over to the blanket and sits him down, instructing him not to touch anything until he gets back, which earns him a pout and a whine, but also the opportunity to press a little kiss to Dean's nose and call him a brat, which earns him a bigger pout.

Sam waits by a tree at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed casually over his chest, weight on one leg. Castiel doesn't know what to say or do; how to act. He keeps a respectable distant between them without looking like he's shying away and licks his lips, peering up at Sam.

"So..."

"So..." Sam echoes, sighing. "So."

"We did... We did talk about this."

Sam nods, swallowing. He's not mad- at least, Cas is pretty sure he's not. "Yeah. Yeah, we did, Castiel."

Cas shuffles. "I was going to- to talk some more."

"No, Cas," Sam stands properly and raises a hand, hesitating for a moment before resting it on Cas' forearm. "I get it. Didn't wanna ruin the surprise."

Cas nods.

"I can keep a secret, y'know."

Castiel's voice box just isn't working.  
"I know." He wheezes.

"Cas, this is something real special." He smiles, and the light catches his eye, giving it the same twinkle Dean has. They don't look much the same, but sometimes it's so blatantly obvious the boys are brothers. "Real special. I'm... I'm real happy for you." But there's something else, something he's not saying. Sam doesn't offer anymore, however, just pulls Cas in for a friendly hug and a slap on the back. "Good luck."

"Thank-you, Sam." Cas says as sincerely as possible- and when did he start getting choked up?

"Oh, hey," Sam taps the camera dangling over Cas' chest. "Want me to...?" He trails off.

"Oh, yeah, yeah." Cas ducks his head, whipping the strap off and passing the camera to Sam. "Would you mind? I trust you know how to use it."

Sam chuckles good-naturedly. "No problem, really. And yeah, I do." He slaps another hand on Cas' shoulder, nudging him lightly towards Dean and Castiel moves with jelly legs and a quickening pulse to where Dean's lounging, sprawled over the mat with his head propped on a pillow.

"Cas?" Dean asks as he approaches. 

"Yeah, it's me." Castiel announces, dropping down beside him. "You found the pillows, then."

"Yeah. Why d'we have pillows?" Dean wriggles until his head is propped up on Castiel's lap instead, a little relaxed smile on his lips.

Cas fights a shrug. "I thought it'd be comfortable."

"It is." Dean sighs, snatching up Cas hand and splaying it, holding his hand the way he likes to. Fiddling, Dean's favourite sensory activity. Cas lets his hand go limp and watches as Dean plays around for a while, brushing his calloused fingers over the skin of his hand, thumbing his wrist and gently bending his fingers. 

Castiel sighs, relaxing a little. It's just a night like any other. A nice night, spent in a forest, with a red picnic blanket and blue pillows and fairy lights strung for tree branches and a wicker basket of food and wine, and his boyfriend's brother filming them from behind a tree. Castiel had had to fork out $20 a head to Meg and Ruby, and- well, actually, they didn't take a whole lot of convincing- some begging to Jo and Ellen to get them to come out and set up for him while he took the other three out. The lights twinkled just so, dangling from the pines and giving the clearing a fantastical look. He felt like he'd wandered into a fairytale.

Castiel's hand bumps the boxes Jess had laid behind him. Oh, yeah. "Hungry?"

"I dunno." Dean shrugs, holding Cas' hand to his chest. Castiel can feel his heart beat, his chest rise and fall with each breath, if he tries hard enough. It's a like little taste of Dean's life, and he enjoys moments like this.

"Well, I took the liberty of getting a couple of take away pies from The Ninth Cloud," Cas tempts, opening a box and waving it near Dean's nose, letting the fresh bakery smell waft. "Including pecan- your favourite. And apple, a classic. And blueberry, for Jess."

Dean looks like he's won a million dollars. "Oh, my god. You are the best. Pass me that pie."

Cas chuckles, setting the box down and drawing a serving knife from the wicker basket, cutting a large helping of pecan for Dean and setting it on a plate- one of his mother's; fine china, white and pastel blue, with gold trimming. Dean takes the plate from him and nibbles a little on the end, then takes a small bite before his eyes go wide and he practically inhales the slice, Cas laughing the whole time watching the faces he pulls. He cracks open the wine bottle and pours them both glasses, cutting himself a pice of apple pie and trying not to choke when Dean holds out his plate for seconds, unable to form words. 

Dean's love for pie almost challenges his love or Cas. Almost.

"You've got some on your nose you klutz." Cas giggles, wiping Dean's nose with a napkin. "Oh, and your chin."

Dean tries to lick the jam from around his mouth, his tongue stretching out in all directions, looking like a complete fool. Castiel just laughs harder, bending down to wipe his face for him and getting a fateful of pie instead.

"Dean!"

Dean cackles evilly, putting his plate aside. "Did I getcha?"

"You did." Cas swipes at his face, not really mad, though it is sticky.

Dean reaches up and cups Castiel's cheek, bringing his face down and his own up, kissing the glazing of filling on Castiel's nose. "Mm, you've never tasted so good."

"Dean, that's gross." Cas laughs, shoving him away and wiping his face with a fresh napkin.

"You love it." Dean winks, his face glowing in the shine of the fairy lights. They both go quiet, smiling at each other, Cas drinking in the sight of him. He's so beautiful.

"Dean," Cas moves and Dean sits up in his absence, twisting his head a little too far to the right trying to track his movements. Castiel walks over to the little turntable Ellen lent him and drops the needle. The forest is filling with the sweet drone of some old-timey slow dance number, violins weeping and a piano or two bringing the stars to life above them. The world spins and Castiel wants to spin with it. "Dance with me?"

Dean raises his eyebrows in a shrug and stands, holding out his hand for Cas to take. He drags him out a little way away from the mat and pulls Dean close, pressing their chests together, palms together, foreheads together. They begin to rock and sway to the music, in a circle, in each other's arms. When they draw breath they draw it together. When their hearts beat, it's together.

They lose a little time, just drifting.

The song changes and Dean chuckles a little under his breath. "Unchained Melody."

Cas listens for a moment, laughing too when he recognises the song. "Yeah. I think my mum really liked this song."

"She probably liked Ghost." 

Cas frowns. "What's Ghost?"

Dean laughs a little louder, nuzzling Cas' forehead. "A movie. We'll have to watch it together some time."

They drift for a moment. Dean begins to sing softly, and Castiel tunes his ears to listen, his eyes drifting closed as Dean's words brush passed him, riding on the evening breeze. 

"The song played on the radio, remember? On our first date?"

"Really?" Castiel looks up at him. "How do you remember that?"

"I remember everything." Dean says, and he's not being coy. He means it. "I remember everything about you."

"Do you remember my birthday?"

"July 10. You were born at St James Hospital, Pontiac, Illinois."

Cas smiles. "Do you remember my first job?"

"Selling ad time on AM radio. You hated it."

"My brother's name?"

Dean chuckles. "Balthazar. He's the one you speak to. Your family has a lotta weird names."

Castiel leans up, his lips nearly brushing Dean's. "Do you remember what I got you for Christmas?"

"A plaque you hand-printed with braille and a check for eye surgery. I keep the plaque in Baby's glovebox, I don't know if you noticed? Y'know, Baby's my home and home is where the heart is. Seemed fitting to keep a piece of you there, seeing as my heart- well, you own it."

Castiel presses a feather light kiss to Dean's lips. "You're such a sap."

"Mm," Dean hums. "But do _you_ remember?"

"Remember what?"

"That I love you?"

Castiel kisses him for real, his hand brushing through Dean's hair, the other arm wrapping around his neck to hold him there, where he belongs, with Cas. There, where he belongs, in his arms. "I Dean you."

And the he knows it's right. He drops down, one knee to the ground just like they tell you to. Castiel doesn't register reaching into the breast pocket of his coat to pull out the little velvet box, but he's aware of unhinging it. Dean's frozen, staring unseeingly down at him and Cas is sure he's figured it out, because Dean's no fool.  
But he acts like it.

"Castiel" Dean chokes out, and Cas thinks there're tears in his eyes- or maybe that's just the shine of the light. "What is this?"

Cas takes Dean's hand, touching his fingers to the ring, brushing them over the little bumps raised on the surface so that he's knows. So that he can see, in his own way. There's a moment when the world stands still, and in the heart of all existence, in this pocket of time where nothing exists but them, Cas says, "Dean Winchester, will you marry me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT  
> HAS  
> HAPPENED  
> !!!


	22. Little Help From My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's that I hear? Bells?
> 
> Oh no, folks. Not the Christmas kind...
> 
> A guide to Castiel's outfit [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8804599)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been /months/. I know. I am the /worst/.
> 
> I've been super, super busy with life for the past while. And I know I promise every time that I'll get back to updating more regularly, but, look. I never happens. So I won't bother this time.  
> HOWEVER  
> With things moving along the way they are, perhaps I will get around to finishing the story soon!  
> (and then going back and editing the story from start to finish, beginning with my appalling grammar and lack. of. spaces. and ending with my MAJOR discontinuity and plot holes. oops.)
> 
> If anyone would be interested in offering themselves up as a beta; going through and helping me sort out this fic, I'd love the help!
> 
> Thank-you so, so much to all of you- new readers and old alike- for sticking 'round and giving Love is Blind a shot.  
> I Dean you all ♥︎

"No way." Dean says. " _No way_." And Castiel's heart just about stops. He freezes, his world on the tipping point of shattering, and then Dean gasps and smiles and waves his hands saying, "No, no, no- I mean _yes_ , but..." Dean chokes, and Castiel thinks he might be crying. Dean pulls Cas numbly up to stand before him, clasping his hands over Cas'. He digs into his jean pocket and pulls out a little wooden box.

A ring box.

"No way." Castiel echoes, staring wide-eyed at the little cube in Dean's palm.

"Way." Dean chuckles, and he's definitely crying, now, because when Cas looks up tears are trekking down his cheeks. "You asshole, you beat me to it."

 

 

Cas' shiny new ring does not go unnoticed at work the following day. 

 

 

"Steve," Nora says in a strange tone, her voice low and apprehensive, yet also wondrous, squeaking with the restraint of barely contained excitement. "Have you got something you wanna tell us?" When Cas glances at her she's biting her lip.

Ruby steps up from behind the boss, intense eyebrow quirked in question. There's a soft, knowing smile on her lips, though. A smile that gives away her more tender disposition. She looks genuinely happy for Cas, behind her mask of bitterness and nonchalance.

"Uhm," Cas coughs. A few of the patrons glance up, all eager to catch on to any snippet of gossip. It's the Coffee Shop Mom's curse, to crave domestic drama like a starved man craves cake. "You mean this?" He holds up his left hand, the little band glinting around his ring finger. The girls gasp, a few hands clapping over mouths to stifle little squeals of glee.

"Oh, Castiel," Nora exhales, reminding Cas that, yes, she _does_ know his name. "It's _gorgeous_!"

"Gimme a closer look!" Charlie snatches his hand up, pulling it close to her face to squint at the ring. The corner of her mouth curves up ever so slightly and her eyes glint. "He's one lucky guy. Congratulations, Cassie."

"Ooh! There's going to be a wedding!" Nora claps her hands and runs up and down on the spot, as if she'd explode if she didn't expel her excited energy. "When? Where? Do you have a caterer? Oh! Oh, we can cater! Let me deal with it, Steve, do t you worry about a thing. What do you want? Never mind, you don't know what you want. _I_ know what you want. Just leave it to me, kid, I'll sort it out." And suddenly Cas is being enveloped in a crushing hug, cocooned in the sweet smell of Nora's perfume and the rich tang of her shampoo before she's pulling back and dashing off, leaving Cas befuddled and amused.

"Did you catch any of that?" He leans over, whispering to Charlie out the corner of his mouth.

"Not a word." Charlie winks and pets his back, sliding past to serve the surly looking man behind the counter. 

Castiel flushes, feeling a warmth spreading inside, tingling at his fingertips and pulling a smile from his lips.

 

 

"Hello, Dean!" Castiel calls, pulling off his coat and kicking his shoes under the rack by the front door.

"Hey, babe!" Dean hollers back from what sounds like the kitchen. Cas snorts and shakes his head, navigating his way through to the tile-floored and cabinet-lined haven. 

"What're you doing?" Cas inquires, leaning on the doorframe and crossing his arms.

"Baking." Dean replies promptly.

"Baking." Cas echoes, and he raises an eyebrow. "Dean, you can't bake."

"Can so."

"How?"

Dean points at the iPad he has set up on the counter a little way away. A second later the screen changes image and a mechanical voice says, "measure out 60 grams of butter, 2/3 cups of milk, 1/4 cup of sugar, and mix in the bowl with the flour."

Castiel smirks and saunters over to the iPad, tilting it so he can see the screen. "How do you plan on measuring the ingredients?"

"I'll find a way." Dean grumbles determinedly. His hand feels out the assortment of pans and cups and boxes he's got laid out over the counter, nimble fingers forming images in his mind as they dance over the items. "Butter." He takes up the slab and pulls a knife from the drawer.

"No-o!" Cas intervenes, grabbing Dean's hand and stealing the knife away before he has a chance to do anything further.

Dean pouts, blindly snatching at the air. "Gimme the knife, Cas."

Cas dances out of the way. Setting the knife down, he turns to Dean and loops his arms under his lover's, nosing at his neck. "How about this," he says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Dean's chin. "How about we bake together?"

Dean takes a moment to reply, moaning softly. "Ok. But I get to lick the spoon."

Cas chuckles and steps back, dragging the instructional video back to the start and setting out the equipment they need.

 

"We're engaged." Cas says, sort of mutely, staring at their reflections in the window. "We're engaged."

"Yeah, Cas," Dean smiles and squeezes his hand, the gold band of his ring finger digging into Castiel's skin a little. Cas doesn't mind. That ring means Dean's his, he wouldn't have it any other way. "We're engaged."

"You're my fiancé."

A peck on the cheek. The lady in the chair across the room gives them a dirty look. "Yeah, buddy, I am."

"I'm not your _buddy_ , I'm your fiancé."

"Yeah, fiancé, I am."

Cas rolls his eyes, squishing a little further into Dean over the uncomfortable plastic armrest of the chair.

Castiel has been in a state of perpetual numbness following their proposals 3 weeks prior. Yes, _their_ proposals. Dean had sunk to his knees with a shrug, opening his ring box to Cas with a gentle, "I'd rehearsed this, so you better let me do it."

It'd been Cas' turn to say yes. Jess couldn't contain her squeal any longer, and Castiel wasn't sure why she bothered 'hiding' in the first place. He knew she was there, behind the tree with Sam, spying on them with hands clasped over her mouth. He didn't care. Their kiss had never been sweeter.

"Mr. Novak, Mr. Winchester?" A young woman with a clipboard and slightly-too-large pencil skirt stands in the centre of the room. Her eyes keep darting their direction in a way that suggests she's trying to be subtle. 

"Yep," Cas stands and pulls Dean up with him, walking them over to Pencil Skirt.

She looks relieved when they're the ones to get up, and welcomes them with a broad smile. "Welcome to Opals."

They're lead down a long, twisting corridor; passed rooms with black plaques fixed to the doors with gold lettering spelling out names and professions. They reach a room down the farthest end, Pencil Skirt drawing to a halt to open the door and let them in before her with a polite extension of her arm.

Cas walks Dean in and settles him down on one of the plush black-leather seats set before the broad, dark wood desk. Pencil Skirt glides passed and takes her own place in the high-backed desk chair, wheeling it forward until she's tucked beneath the desk.

"So," She raps her fingertips on the cleared desk space before her. "You two're getting married." Her teeth are slightly too white and her lips too glossed, but the smile is sweet and genuine.

"Yeah," Dean grins with a corner of his mouth. "Yeah, we are."

"Congratulations." Pencil Skirt nods, smiling wider if possible. "Well, it's my job now to make sure it's the best day of your lives."

She slides back and pulls a drawer out with her, pulling few thick volumes out and dropping them on the desk with a considerable thump. The binders are stocked with tags and tabs, string and loose papers, all poking out in a multicoloured array. 

"So this," She says, hunching over a little and bracing her fingertips on the cover of one of the books. "Is my personal collection, and the collection of the company. In here are our options, some of which I'll go through with you today."

Cas nods, smiling pleasantly. He feels compelled to ask the question that's been nagging at him as she flips open the first of the volumes. "Uhm, sorry," She glances up at him, her eyes bright an questioning, immediately ready to answer his inquiries. She has the mark of a true professional. "What's your name?"

"Oh!" She cries, then dissolves in a fit of giggles- sheepish at first, then genuine. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I didn't-" She snorts and shakes her head. Cas grins at her good naturedly, Dean smirking beside him. "I'm Nancy, Bower." She holds her hand out, stating her name disjointedly, clearly. Cas takes her hand and shakes firmly.

"Pleased to meet you... Mrs. Bower?" Cas says, tilting his head in question. It's an assumption, her marital status, but surely someone in a romantic profession such as this has been snatched up.

"Uh, Miss Bower." Nancy corrects. _Evidently not_. "But you can call me Nancy, Mr. Novak."

"You can call me Castiel, Nancy. Or Cas, if it's too odd- I know my name can be strange."

Nancy giggles, the sound bubbly and light, like lemonade. "Castiel is fine, a beautiful name."

Cas blushes.

"Prettier than Dean." Dean shakes his head, grinning cheekily.

"Oh, no, Dean is a lovely name, too." Nancy assures him lightheartedly. 

"Well, good, 'cause you call me Mr. Winchester and I might just cry." Dean jokes, relaxing visibly in his seat.

"If you don't mind me asking, who's name are you taking here?" She gestures between the two of them. 

"Undecided." Cas says at the same time Dean says, "Not sure."

"I see." She smiles, bowing her head to look at the book in front of her. "Well, they're both good names."

"Castiel Winchester, Dean Novak..." Dean muses, sounding the names out. "Yeah, not sure..."

"You'll know when the time comes." Nancy nods, certain.

 

 

"None of the themes are really appealing to you, are they?" Nancy looks up at them with a small knowing smile, not at all judgemental or offended. Still, Cas can't help but nod guiltily.

"What did you say the Halloween theme was like?" Dean pokes Cas' side.

"Dean, we are not using a Halloween theme for our wedding."

Nancy laughs.

"Aw, c'mon, I wouldn't even need make-up." Dean laughs, pointing to his face.

Both Cas and Nancy still, staring at him incredulously.

"You're joking." Nancy says, giving Castiel an 'is he serious?' look.

Cas shrugs and rolls his eyes. "Dean, how many times do I have to tell you-"

"Hey, all I got is your word, sunshine. And, let's face it, you're biased. I coulda aged like a grape. I could look like a raisin now and I'd have no clue!" Dean chuckles.

"Take it from a third party," Nancy says. "You're no raisin."

They all giggle until Nancy glances at her watch and sobers. "Oh, boys," She says guiltily, turning genuinely disappointed eyes to Cas. "Looks like time's up. I'm sorry we didn't get much accomplished."

"No, don't be!" Castiel insists quickly. "You've been great, Nancy."

"You've restored my self-image!" Dean laughs again and gives her the thumbs-up.

Nancy smiles. "Not really the goal of our appointment, but certainly an achievement."

"Can we organise another time soon?" Cas asks, standing and taking Dean's arm.

"You'll have to check with Stephanie at reception, but I should think so. Take this home with you in the meantime." She holds out one of her folders.

"Are you sure?" Cas takes the book from her.

"Oh, yeah." She waves her hand confidently. "You're my last new case for a while, and every other couple has moved on from this stage. You take that and have a flick through with each other, jot down what you like, and let me know next time, ok?"

"Ok." Cas smiles at her one last time as she stands and holds the door open for them. "Thank-you very much."

 

 

"She was nice." Dean says lightly as they turn on Main Street to head home.

"Yeah, she was."

"Did you really not see anything you liked?"

Cas thinks for a moment. "I saw stuff I liked, just nothing that made me go 'Wow! That's so _us_!'" 

"Alright, yeah." Dean nods. "Well, you better get on top of it, bud. The responsibility of our pretty wedding falls on your shoulders."

"Why?"

"Well, you're the one that's going to have to look at it." Dean smirks and Cas punches him lightly in the arm. "Ow, watch the road."

Cas parks Baby in the drive and walks Dean to the door as has become their custom, kicking his shoes off and leaving Dean to wrestle with his coat while he escapes to the living room where he sets the binder down on the coffee table and continues through to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

Dean's in the living room when he returns with two steaming mugs. "Sam's wedding was nice." 

Cas smiles as he passes Dean his coffee. "You say that because you couldn't see it."

"You said it was nice?"

"Hmm..." Cas tips his head. "It was, I guess. Too much plaid, though... Way too much. And besides, we don't want to copy your brother, do we?"

Dean frowns a little. "No, guess not."

"I think we should pick a venue first. Maybe it'll help us settle on a theme, narrow it down a bit?"

Dean sips, a contemplative expression crinkling his forehead. "Well... We could just have a good ol' church wedding, if that's what you want?"

"You want to get married in a chapel? Us? You?"

"Fair point." Dean smirks. "Ok, what about the coffee shop? It's where we met!"

Castiel nearly chokes. "No, no, no, please no."

"Alright, alright." Dean holds up a hand, still smirking. "What about..."

"My grandparents have a place." Cas says, a little distantly. "A manor in the country. I used to go a lot when we were kids. They always liked me, never fond of my parents, though. Maybe..." He glances up at Dean, blinking out of his stupor. "I could ask?"

Dean nods, pulling a 'why not?' face. "Sounds nice. Think they'd mind... Y'know?" He gestures between the pair of them.

Castiel figures he's referring to his family's strong faith, and their abhorrent habit of not conforming to it.  
"They've always been sweet on me. They're not like ma and pa."

Dean nods, settling back. "Well, I'm happy to give it a shot if you are, sunshine."

 

 

Castiel's father pretty much walked out on the family when the children were young. Mr. Novak worked a lot, and one day he just sort of disappeared. He still sent a pay check each month and phoned their mother occasionally, but he became very distant. Castiel never knew his grandparents on his father's side. Just his strange aunt who he'd never met.

  
His mother was a good woman, if not overly dedicated to her faith. She raised the children in a Christian home, and drilled the Lord's word into them from day one. She was never cruel about it, not crazy. Just very, very set in her ways. Cas could never talk to her about anything.

  
His grandparents, however, maintained something of a more normal faith. They were sweet on him for some reason. Perhaps for being one of the youngest, perhaps because he never called them out for forgetting to say grace or using the Lord's name in vain. His grandfather, especially, doted on him as a child. He taught Cas how to ride a bike and gave him his first camera. 

They were fairly well-off. By fairly, Cas meant they were rich. Their property was inherited, but it was clear that they could've just as easily have purchased it themselves. The house was a large gregorian manor that sat perched at the top of a small grassy hill whose lawn always seemed to be the perfect shade of green. Their house was surrounded by old, sturdy trees that burned orange in the Autumn and shivered away every last leaf in the Winter's snow. There was a small lake at the property's front that was home to swans and ducks, and large catfish that glided through the crystal blue waters. It was more than large enough to host a wedding ceremony, and certainly beautiful.

When Cas phoned his grandparents to ask, they accepted almost immediately.

"Are you- are you sure?" Castiel gapes, clutching the phone.

"Yes, sweetheart!" His grandmother cries. "It'd be an honour!"

Cas bites his lip. "Grandmother, you know... You know I'm marrying a man, don't you?"

"Yes?" She replies, sounding for all the world confused as to why it should matter. Castiel could cry. If only he could kiss her through the phone.

"Oh, well." Cas clears his throat. "Well, great! Great! Ok." He pauses, thinking. He hadn't really expected a yes. "I'll email you the details. I might be calling at bit while we organise, it that ok?"

"That's fine, Castiel!" There's a pause in which Cas can hear his grandma murmuring something in the background, the gravely baritone of his grandpa replying in the distance. "You there, darling?"

"Yep, yes, I'm here." Cas spurts, still expecting her to turn around an decline at any moment.

"Your grandfather just wanted me to tell you how proud he is of you and how happy he is- oh, he wants to speak to you. I'll pass you over-" There's a rustle and clattering. Castiel waits with his heart pounding in his throat.

"Castiel?" 

"Hello, grandfather." Cas greets the familiar, weathered old voice.

"How are you, son?"

"I am well." Castiel says. His grandfather is the type of man who seems to demand formality; not due to some stiff personality, but rather out of respect. He is a very old, and very wise man whom Castiel looks up to. Always has.

"That is good. Good. Listen, boy-" He cuts himself off, and, to Castiel's surprise, chuckles. "Oh, you are not a boy anymore, are you, Castiel?"

"N-no, sir."

"I am going to have to break that habit." There's a smile in the old man's voice. "Listen, Castiel. I just wanted to tell you firstly how honoured I am that you have asked us to take part in such a special occasion. Such a special moment in your life. I am very proud of you, sir. I want you to know that no matter what anyone says, you deserve all the happiness in the world, with whoever you choose to share that happiness with."

"Thank-you, sir." Castiel chokes.

"I know your father has not been there for you. And your mother, well..." He trails off. "I need you to know that we will always be here to support you, Castiel. If you ever need anything, do not be afraid to ask. Lord knows, you give enough. Never be afraid to be the one to ask."

"Yes, sir."

"I must leave you now. I wish you the best of luck. Keep in touch, son. I need to know when to trim the hedges."

Cas laughs and bids him farewell. His grandmother returns briefly to let him know when they'll be available to call, and to tell him for the umpteenth time how excited she is, and how much she loves him. Then she hangs up.

Cas flops down on the couch, boneless and a little shellshocked.

"Well?" Dean says, coming in from the kitchen. "How'd it go."

"Good." Cas says, and he can't believe he can do so honestly. "Really good. They're more than happy to do it, actually. They were both-" He coughs, clearing his throat and sitting forward. "I forget why it's been so long since I last spoke to them." 

"'Cause you're an idiot who don't know what he's got?" Dean offers with a joking smile. "So we gonna have it at their place?"

"If you like?"

"You wanna?"

Castiel nods. "Yes."

"Then let's do it!" Dean claps his hands together and rubs them. "Now we needa think of... Everything else."

"Yes." Cas breathes. One thing down, a million things to go.

"You sound tense."

"I am."

Dean wiggles his eyebrows. "Want a relaxing blowjob?"

Cas rolls his eyes. "Dean."

 

 

Weddings typically take months to organise, but once the boys got over the first hurdle, the rest seemed to flow at lightning speed. Nancy advised them over a series of random phone calls. The crew at Heavenly Brew offered to cater, and Cas couldn't say no to Nora's pleading face. Jess pretty much demanded that she help with the decor, and Sam got the number for the formalwear store he used.

With location, food, decorations and clothing all sorted, Dean and Cas were left with only the miscellaneous tasks, and the invites.

They agreed to have no theme, just put together what they liked. Nancy thought that was a good idea.

Nora insisted on a surprise wedding cake that she promised would be perfect, so they didn't need to taste test. Actually, catering was pretty much out of their hands while the HB team were on the case.

Cas, Jess and Castiel's grandmother spent a few weeks shopping around for decor for the wedding. Nancy accompanied them on one occasion over a FaceTime call; she'd review their choices at their next meeting.

They decided to go traditional white, blue and silver for a colour pallet. They hired a little over a hundred chairs to set outside, a small platform for the pair to stand on and an arch to accompany it. They had tables and small, rectangular marquees to cover them.

  
Castiel's grandmother organised interior designers to come and handle the inside of the house; where the reception would be held, and the after party in the large lounge and sunroom off the side.

Sam took Dean separately to be fitted for his outfit. Cas went two days later, accompanied by his Decor Ladies. He'd never have thought clothes shopping could be such a mission...

 

 

"How about this one?" Jess holds up a reverse ensemble; the jacket a soft off-white and the shirt traditional black. Somehow Cas never fancied the look.

"No, I don't think so."

"Aw, I think one of you should wear white." Jess hangs the jacket back on the rack.

"Why, to fit in with the tradition? As if they are in any other way." Grandmother retorts, sifting through a row of near-identical black jackets.

Jess hums. "True, but- oh." She pulls something off a rack and seems to ponder it for a moment, holding it to the light. "Ooh, hey, Cas?"

Cas turns over his shoulder in reply, eyebrows raised. 

"What about this one?" Jess turns the jacket front-on to face him.

Cas had employed their help due to his severe lack of fashion expertise. He didn't consider himself a man of remarkable taste- taste at all, in fact. But the jacket Jess held to him seemed to strike a chord within him, something about it made his heart sing.

"Oh, actually..." He says, stepping forward to pinch the fabric of a sleeve between his thumb and forefinger. It was soft, silky on the inside and smooth on the out.

"Let me see?" Grandmother peers over his shoulder. "Oh, my!"

The jacket is snatched from Jess' hands and pressed to Castiel's front with a force that nearly sends him stumbling backwards. The two women stand in front of him with pinched expressions, eyes running over the sleek design of the garment with such ferocity it's almost unnerving.

"Jesus, look at the way it makes his eyes pop." Jess whispers. 

"A tailored fit would certainly look handsome."

"It'd go nice with a crisp white, don't you think?"

"What about a tie?"

"Does he need one?" 

"A matter for later, for now-" Their rapid-fire whispering is cut off abruptly, Grandmother turning to call a clerk over.

A middle-aged woman in a neatly pressed pair of slacks and loose, frilly top steps up beside the pair. "Oh, a marvellous choice, madam." She says, smiling at Grandmother.

"It was Jessica's choice, actually." Grandmother gestures to Jess, who smiles somewhat smugly. "And yes, I quite agree."

"Would you like to try it on?" The clerk offers, gently taking the jacket from Grandmother and holding it up so as not to crinkle it.

Grandmother answers for him before Cas can even open his mouth. "Yes, I think he would."

"May I suggest something to go underneath?"

"If you wouldn't mind." The ladies nod enthusiastically and Cas is lead by the hand to the change rooms.

The clerk selects a range of shirts in various styles under the guidance of the two women. Castiel had no idea choosing something as simple as a dress shirt was such a complex and delicate process.

"It could make or break the outfit, dear." The shop assistant tells him, hanging her selection in the cubicle he's been stuffed into. "Try these. If we like the style, then we can start working on fittings, so don't worry about that so much. It's a wedding, so we don't want casual-formal. It'd help if we knew what the bride was wearing, but I hear it's a secret." She smiles at him. "Which is very sweet."

"Yes." Cas says, for lack of anything better to say. He doesn't bother correcting her.

The door is closed and he is left to face the sea of neutral tones and off-whites. The occasional piece of colour standing out amongst the blander fabrics. He plucks a shirt off the hook and begins to strip.

 

 

It takes close to two hours to pick the 'right' shirt. Two hours, and what feels like two hundred shirts of the slightest variation. Finally, they all settle for Jess' original suggestion; a crisp white shirt, nearly blinding, which secretly makes Cas laugh. It was amongst the plainest pieces, but also the nicest and most comfortable. The shirt has a nice medium sized collar that could host a tie, but wouldn't look ridiculous bare. It has neat seams and was a soft material. The cuffs weren't overly large (a problem, apparently) and can sport both cufflinks or buttons, depending on his preference. It's buttons down the front are hidden by an extra strip of fabric that seamlessly blends into the torso of the shirt.

"Makes it look much nicer if worn without a tie, and no different if you do decide to put one on. I recommend this style highly. Sometimes visible buttons look nice, but for this outfit I think this is much more attractive." The clerk explains to the two nodding women and one rather indifferent, somewhat confused Castiel.

The shirt has no pocket because it is "just plain unattractive with the rest of the outfit".

The suit jacket itself is a deep blue, almost black in certain lights, but definitely blue in the sun. It gleams when the light falls on it, a simple yet elegant style that comes together low in the torso and sports only a neat slit breast pocket. The lapel is a shawl style that doesn't attract too much attention, but offers an added sense of sophistication to the garment. Fitted right, it is posed to be a very attractive piece. Almost as if made for Cas.

A waistcoat is selected. A silver-grey that doesn't make a big deal of itself, but gives the whole outfit a very different look.   
"More like a groom." Says the clerk.  
"More like a prince." Says Jess, whose eyes sparkled when Cas stepped out.

They decide to try ties at a later date.

The two hours also included a brief fitting off pants, in which Cas wound up with a matching pair of trousers that partner the suit jacket. His measurements were taken for each piece and then he was told to change back to his own clothes (finally) and call in again in a week to be fitted with his tailored outfit.

Jess and Grandmother call the whole thing very successful. Cas is inclined to agree.

 

 

"Tell me what it looked like!" Dean begs, tugging at Cas' sleeve.

"No!" Cas chuckles and pulls away. "Jess took pictures. I'll show you sometime after the wedding."

"It's not like I can see it. It's not like I'll _really_  know what it looks like, just tell me so I can _imagine_!"

"Nope." Cas settles down beside him, grinning stupidly, partly because he knows Dean can't tell. "Now, quiet, I want to pay attention." He presses the play button and their film starts up.

  
Half an hour later Dean is propped on his shoulder, mouth open and snoring. Cas presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and smiles.  
Not long to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE:  
> I AM reading your comments! Thank-you to all those who:  
> a) offer their encouragement and praise, you guys make me cry ♡  
> b) point out discontinuity and other issues. You the real MVPs ☆  
> c) keep asking for updates. Y'all guilt me into writing
> 
> I WILL go back and comb through this mess of a fic and fix the plot holes and the overall writing, but for now I'm focussed on finishing it. For new readers, you may notice these mistakes as you read from start to last update- as well as notice writing style changes, etc. Just bear with me. It's because there can be months between updates because I am TERRIBLE.
> 
> I am currently also working on a series of other pics (this time finishing them before posting so I can be this cool thing called "consistent") so bear with me as I try and juggle all this on top of LIFE.
> 
> I love you all and thank-you so much.  
> Stay tuned!
> 
> PLEASE NOTE:  
> This chapter will have mistakes. And, with the addition of new characters and background, probably some continuity issues. This will be fixed later. Just hang in there for now, kiddos. I apologise (*^_^)'


	23. Proud: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distantly, Castiel realises the tune playing is an instrumental version of Unchained Melody, and he can't help but let out a small laugh at that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready?

"He just needs to get away for a few days, Cas. It's... It's a bit of personal business- not because he's getting cold feet!" Sam adds quickly, eyes popping and hands waving out. "No, no, god." A giant paw rests on Cas' shoulder. "It's not because of you, Castiel. He just has a few things he needs to sort out. I'll go with him, keep an eye on him." He winks and smirks softly. "Besides, the groom's not meant to see the bride until they walk down the aisle, anyway."

"Neither of us are brides, Sam." Cas points out.

"Could've fooled me." The younger Winchester chuckles. "I'll bring him back in one piece, Cas. Don't worry."

"I'm not." Cas smiles and shakes Sam's hand when he offers it to him; informal and friendly, each smiling softly. In a few days they'll practically be family; then again, they've been that way all along.

Sam nods and turns, making it part way out the door before turning back to Cas, one hand closing around the handle. "Oh, and Cas?"

Cas looks up at him.

"I'm proud to call you brother."

Castiel smiles and waves him away.

 

"They _what?!_ " Jess exclaims, a little too loud in Cas' ear. Castiel pulls the phone away a little, wincing. 

"Dean was acting shifty all day, and then Sam appeared randomly on our doorstep and stole him away." He bites his lip. "Jess, you don't think-?"

" _No_ , Cas! I'm sure they're just up to something. Dean loves you, hon. He _loves you_."

"Yeah..." Castiel still can't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. He clings to the phone a little longer, letting Jess distract him some trivial topic- shoe store sales, or something? He doesn't really pay attention; just listening to her voice has a calming effect, and he soaks in it.

"Are you ok?" Castiel hadn't even realised she'd stopped talking.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." He nods, shifting. His shoe has a scuff mark on it.

"Cas, how about I come over?" She sounds so sweet, and Castiel is so desperately in need of the companionship.

"Uhm, yeah actually. Could you?" He looks up hopefully, gripping the phone.

"I'll be over in 10 with popcorn and my personal collection of British romcoms." 

Cas smiles, relieved.

 

They're three movies into their marathon- a viewing experience that seems to be running indefinitely, no stopping anywhere in the foreseeable future- when Jess lifts her head off his shoulder. She's sat curled on his sofa, legs tucked beneath her, leant on his side. Her perfume is a sweet smell, mixing pleasantly with the popcorn. She blinks up at Cas, studying his face for a moment.

"Pre-wedding nerves?"

Cas sighs softly. "Something like that."

"It'll be ok." She rubs his arm, pouting with her glossy pink lips. "I was nervous, too."

"Is Sam as complex as Dean?"

She tips her head, "No, not really. I mean, he's a person, Cas. Aren't we all a little puzzling?" She puffs out a laugh. "But no, Dean certainly has some very twisted stuff going on up there." She taps her temple.

Cas presses his lips grimly, nodding.

"But hey," She tucks a finger under his chin, redirecting his gaze to her. "He's looking so much better, Cas. I really don't know the half of what you boys are dealing with, but I know that you _are_ dealing with it. Gloriously. You'll be a-ok, Castiel. I just know it." She smiles brightly. "And if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Jess." Castiel returns her smile, relaxing a little into the cushions. The film's still playing, though he's lost track of what's going on. 

"Look at the two of us." She continues. "I'm glad we get along so well, Cas. I really am. You're a great guy." She hugs him tightly across the chest. "We got to stick together, you and I. How else are we going to keep our sanity? We're married to Winchesters!"

"Well, going to be married."

"Ok, _going_ to both be married to those two idiots. God I love them."

"I may need some advice."

Jess sniggers and nods. "I'm something of a Winchester expert by now. Anything you need- hit me up!"

"I will." Cas laughs.

 

They fall asleep on the couch, Jess sprawled over Castiel, Cas with his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. The sun sinks and rises once more, bringing them one step closer to the big day.

Castiel wakes first, carefully shifting out from under Jess and padding upstairs to freshen up. She's up and stretching when he returns, yawning wide.

"Morning." He greets her.

"Good morning!" She responds cheerily, standing up and gingerly hopping over to the DVD player to return her disc to the case. Castiel clears the coffee table of their snacks, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He checks his phone after he's tossed the empty bags away. There's no word from Dean, but one simple text from Sam sent this morning:  
 **Don't worry!**

"Hey, Jess," Cas calls. She responds from somewhere in the other room. "Did Sam tell you where they went?"

She appears in the doorway, frowning. "Nope."

"You didn't question him?"

She shrugs her shoulders, crossing thin arms over her chest. "Nah, not really. He kinda just took off. You learn to just roll with these kind of things when dating a Winchester."

Cas can't argue with that. "Did you tell Sam you spent the night here?"

"Yeah, I sent him a text in case they came home and he wondered where I'd gone."

"Ok." Cas glances down at his phone. "Did you tell him I was stressing?"

She smiles and rises her eyebrows at him in answer.

Cas lets out a breath. "I'm not stressing."

"Mm-hm, sure." She responds sarcastically, slinking towards him and sliding a hand up his arm. "Some strange guy appears on your doorstep on the eve of your wedding day and whisks your husband-to-be away with no explanation. Who'd be stressy?"

Cas squints at her. "Not helping, Jess. Sam's not a stranger. And the wedding's not for two days! And I am sure there's an explanation. Sam said Dean needed to take care of some personal business."

"Right, close enough." She shrugs again and brushes passed him, headed for the coffee machine.

Cas turns, watching after her. "You _sure_ you don't know what's going on?"

"Positive!" She replies cheerily, not glancing back at him.

Sneaky...

 

Dean and Sam don't show up again that day, or the next. Jess stays with Castiel, keeping him sane as the clock winds down to crunch time.

Castiel wakes up bright and early on a particularly sunny Saturday morning, the sun peaking through silver-lined clouds. Birds whistle nonsensical melodies, Hannah purrs at the foot of his bed, the alarm has 5 minutes left on it. Blinking sleep-blur from his vision, Cas rolls over and switches the alarm off, lying on his back and heaving a deep sigh.

For a moment there's nothing but mild, pleasant bliss.

Then-  
"OH!" He sits up with a gasp, startling Hannah where she slept. "I'm getting married today!"

He stares incredulously at his cat, who only glares back at him, very unamused with her rude awakening. His heart tha-thumps in his chest, hammering anxiety and excitement into his veins. He throws back the covers, leaping to his feet and awkwardly stumbling down the stairs- almost too fast for him to keep balance.

Jess sits up with a jolt, her hair a frizzy nightmare. She blinks a few times at him before her eyes widen and she springs up with a very undignified "SQUEE!", fists coming up to her mouth in excitement, eyes shining.

"We've got to get ready!" She cries, throwing her hands up and darting into the adjacent room. She reemerges with a steaming cup of coffee, pressing it into Castiel's hands. "Drink!"

"Je- hey!" Castiel calls after her as she speeds up the stairs, "Jess! We don't have time for coffee!"

"I don't, you do!" She calls from the top of the staircase. Castiel deadpans, glancing at his coffee before shrugging and taking a gulp. Jess returns a moment later with his tux, all tucked away in it's protective case, a make-up bag in her other hand. She sets up base, bringing and mirror into the room and setting a lamp up beside the coffee table. Castiel finishes his coffee and is instructed to strip, which he does, not daring to disobey.

They'd decided not to get a stylist, employing Jess to do the beautification. She was more than happy to oblige when asked, and it's turned out to be convenient, seeing as she stayed the night. Cas dashes upstairs and speed-showers, throwing on clean boxers and his pants and shirt.

A towel is thrown around his shoulders and an apron over his chest, protecting his suit. Jess does a quick, clean shave, careful not to nick him. She lightly powders his face, fixing up his eyebrows and rubbing balm onto his lips, already chapping from nervous licking. Then she moves on to the hair, styling it with gel and spray and sure hands. She works fast and efficiently, pulling the towel and apron away and holding the mirror to him.

"What do you think?"

Cas studies himself. "Ok, I guess."

Jess' shoulders sag, "Oh."

"Oh, no!" Castiel corrects himself hurriedly. "You've done marvellously. It's just it's, you know, _me_."

She smiles and bends down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You're gorgeous, Castiel."

Cas doesn't think so, but he blushes nonetheless.

He's given instructions to keep calm, clean his teeth and put on his aftershave while Jess darts upstairs to prepare herself (she'd brought her bridesmaid dress with her, thinking ahead). Castiel does as he's told, deep breathing and scrubbing ruthlessly at his teeth over the kitchen sink, spitting down the drain with a crinkle of his nose in disgust. He sucks on a mint for extra measure as he paces the lounge, hands restless at his sides.

Jess appears at the top of the stairs, looking radiant in the silky blue of her gown, her hair curled over her shoulder. Castiel grins up at her and she returns the smile, wrinkling her nose with excitement.

"Ready?" She asks, offering him her hand as she reaches the foot of the stairs. The limousine pulls up outside, ready to escort them to Castiel's grandparent's.

"As I'll ever be." Cas lets out a shuddery breath, taking her hand and gripping it like a lifeline as she pulls him out the door.

 

The grounds of Castiel's grandparent's estate is glistening with silverware and silky drapes; lights entangled in trees, glowing against the overcast sky. The sunshine of the morning is still peeking through, made less intense by the blanket of silver clouds knit across the sky. It doesn't look like it'll rain, but it also doesn't appear to be clearing up anytime soon. Cas doesn't mind, he kind of likes overcast weather; it adds a beautiful, serene atmosphere to the party.

His grandfather catches his eye as he steps out of the limo, stretching and straightening his suit. He's gone with the second option, the grey waistcoat fit snug around his middle. Castiel's grandpa smiles warmly and beckons him over.

"Hello, grandfather." Castiel greets him with warm affection. "Thank-you again for hosting us, and for going through all this trouble."

"Oh, no trouble at all! No trouble at all!" His grandfather assures him, waving his hand. "Does it look ok? We've had people out all morning busy preparing. Your strange friend from the coffee shop is here with the food. Your grandmother is having quite the time in the kitchen! And Nancy has been here since five! She's a great girl." Castiel nods in agreement, gazing around at the sea of decor around him; the white and blue and silver.

"Everything is perfect, grandfather." He says, softly.

His grandpa nods, pleased. "And where is young Dean, then?"

"I-" Cas pauses. Jess glances at him from where she stands at his arm, tugging the corner of her lip down. "I'm not sure, grandfather. I suppose I'm not meant to see my groom until the ceremony."

"Ah, yes! As is tradition." His grandfather seems to find Dean's absence perfectly acceptable. "Well Castiel, my boy. Not long to go." He flicks his wrist up, regarding the gold watch fit snug around his pudgy wrist. "A little over an hour. The guests should begin seating, now. Shall I rally the troops?"

Castiel nods, "Please."

His grandpa pets his shoulder, throwing him one last proud smile before whisking away, calling to the guests and the chaperones.

"Are you ok?" Jess leans in, whispering.

"I'm... Not sure."

She squeezes his arm. "Nervous is good. As long as you're excited, too?"

Castiel casts his gaze around distractedly, partially listening. "Yeah..."

She gives him a funny look but says no more. The make their way to the end of the second row of seats, ready to greet guests as they arrive and take their places.

Cas and Dean had agreed that Cas would be the one to stand at the alter. Castiel hadn't really cared either way, but when Dean'd sort of insisted that he walk down the isle, he had been more than happy to oblige.

The guests pour in after that, all dolled up and smiling. Castiel's family arrives; his mother trotting up to him in her clip-cloppy heels. She throws her arms around his shoulders, dragging him down for a kiss.

"I love you so much, baby."

Cas chokes up a little, smiling into her shoulder. "I love you, too, ma."

She pulls back, bracing her hands on either side of his face, staring into his eyes with a teary smile. "I may not understand everything," She says. "But I'm so proud of you. I promise I'll try to... get my head around this." Referring to his relationship with a man. Castiel knows it's hard for her to re-think all that has been hardwired into her since a young age. All that the congregation has fed her over the years. She's a traditional women; but times are changing, and even the church has less of an issue with his kind of relationship, now. In fact, one of his own pastors agreed to officiate the ceremony.

Castiel takes her hands, kissing them, and gestures to their seats out the front.

Anna comes up to him next, smiling warmly. "Hey, big brother."

"Hello, Anna." He envelops her in a tight hug.

"Congratulations." She mumbles into his shoulder. "I can't wait to meet him."

Cas pulls back. "I can't wait for you to meet him."

Balthazar tackles him, only releasing his grip when Jess scolds him for crinkling Castiel's suit. They slap backs and have something of a rowdy reunion- made only worse when Gabriel shows up, looking slick and mischievous as always.

As Castiel's brothers make their way to their assigned seats, Cas catches sight of yellow hair in the crowd. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of Mary's face, alone in the sea of people trickling in.

"Mary!" He calls, and her head snaps up. She catches his eyes and smiles weakly, pushing through to him. She's dressed nicely in a soft green, her bag clasped tight in white-knuckled, trembling hands.

"Hi, Castiel." She says, her voice just above a whisper.

"Hello, Mary." He says softly, touching her arm.

She sighs, closing her eyes for a moment, righting herself. When she looks back up at him, it's with sincere, apologetic eyes. "I was such a fool. I had no idea that you and Dean where quite so..."

"Involved?" Castiel offers.

"In love." The corners of her lips twitch up. "You know, I've done a lot of thinking, Castiel. And I wanted to thank you. I can't quite put it all into words, but I-" She shakes her head, smiling a little broader. "Thank-you."

Castiel pulls her into a tight embrace. "You're welcome."

Mary holds him briefly, then steps back, grinning at Jess. "And hello, Jessica! Is Samuel here, yet?"

"Uh..." Jess glances at Cas awkwardly. "I'm not sure."

Mary blinks and frowns, opening her mouth to say something when the show runner stands on the platform and instructs the guests to be seated, the ceremony is about to start.

Mary throws one last encouraging smile over her shoulder at Cas and takes her seat in the front row opposite Castiel's family.

Jess pets his arm, "Are you going to be ok?"

Cas draws a deep breath in through his nose. "Yeah."

"I'll be with you the whole time, alright?" Jess nods at the platform. She's assumed the role of 'best bridesmaid' for the ceremony, as Cas didn't really have a best man. 

"I know." Cas nods, and they make their way around the rows of seating and up onto the stage. There's a buzz of excitement and anticipation in the air, everyone sat restless, awaiting Dean's arrival.

Castiel rolls his shoulders and takes deep breaths, counting to 10. In the crowd he picks out familiar faces, all smiling up at him encouragingly, lovingly.

The ushers that stand lookout at the end of the chair rows glance up at the gathering of people on the platform and nod.

Dean has arrived.

Everyone goes silent as Castiel adjusts his stance, straightening, staring at the parting between the two blocks of chairs with his heart hammering in his chest. He can barely breathe.

Time stands still. He can hear every breath deafening in his own ears. The tension builds; the anticipation.

Just when it all begins to feel too much, the band strikes up, and a pair of figures emerge from around the tree stood station at the foot of the walkway. Castiel's breath catches, his eyes unable to tear away.

Dean makes his way to the alter, arm looped with Sam's, gripping it tight.

The crowds turns, craning their necks to glimpse the groom as he makes his way, parading down the aisle.

Distantly, Castiel realises the tune playing is an instrumental version of _Unchained Melody_ , and he can't help but let out a small laugh at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may expand on this chapter later. But for now, enjoy the WEDDING- part ONE (;

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [Tumblr](https://scribblesnsquiggles.tumblr.com)


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